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YOUNG 


THE 

RAILROADERS 





THE NEXT MOMENT THE 


MIDW^AY JUNCTION 
HIS BOX. 


GHOST STEPPED GRIMLY FROM 



THE 

YOUNG RAILROADERS 

TALES OF ADVENTURE 
AND INGENUITY 

BY 

F. LOVELL COOMBS 

W ith Illustrations 


Bv F. B. MASTERS 



NEW YORK 
THE CENTURY CO. 


1910 



Copyright, 1909, 1910, by 
Thb Century Co. 


Published September ^ igio 



Eiectrotyped and Printed by 
C. H. Simonds & Co., Boston 


©CI.A27yo50 


TO 

B. R. C. AND K. L. C. 


A REMEMBRANCE 


( 


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■..'■.M-V'' 





CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. One Kind of Wireless 3 

II. An Original Emergency Battery ... 24 

III. A Tinker Who Made Good .... 38 

IV. The Other Tinker Also Makes Good . . 54 

V. An Electrical Detective 68 

VI. Jack Has His Adventure 86 

VH. A Race through the Flames .... 102 

VHI. The Secret Telegram 117 

IX. Jack Plays Reporter, with Unexpected Re- 
sults 132 

X. A Runaway Train 146 

XI. The Haunted Station 163 

XII. In a Bad Fix, and Out 180 

XHI. Professor Click, Mind - Reader . . . 198 

XIV. The Last of the Freight Thieves . . . 225 

XV. The Dude Operator 246 

XVI. A Dramatic Flagging 262 

XVII. Wilson again Distinguishes Himself . . 279 

XVHI. With the Construction Train .... 295 

XIX. The Fnemy’s Hand Again, and a Capture . 310 

XX. A Prisoner 325 

XXL Turning the Tables 337 

XXII. The Defense of the Viaduct .... 357 


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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

_ PAGE 

The next moment the Midway Junction ghost stepped 
GRIMLY FROM HIS BOX Frofitispiece 

“ Now I AM GOING TO CUT YOUR CORDS,” AlEX WENT ON 

SOFTLY 8 

Held it over the bull's-eye, alternately covering and 

UNCOVERING THE STREAM OF LIGHT . . . . I4 

Threw himself at the front door, pounding upon it 

WITH HIS FISTS 27 

In the middle of the floor, the center of all eyes, hur- 
riedly WORKING WITH CHISEL AND HAMMER ... 34 

He was gazing into the barrel of a revolver ... 57 

But the responding click did not come .... 63 

The clerk was colorless, but only faltered an instant 78 

“There!” said Jack, pointing in triumph ... 83 

Looped it over the topmost strand, near one of the posts 94 

There, in the corner of the big barn. Jack sent as he 
HAD never sent BEFORE 99 

With a rush they dashed into the wall of smoke . . io8 

Closer came the roaring monster 114 

“ Come on I Come on ! ” exclaimed the man in the 
DOORWAY 123 

“How DID you do it, SMARTY? ” SNAPPED THE SHORTER MAN 129 

They whirled by, and the rest was lost . . . .153 

ix 


X LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

The engineer stepped down from his cab to grasp Alex’s 
HAND . 157 

The wait was not long 162 

Jack made out a thin, clean-shaven face bending over 

A DARK-LANTERN ‘ . I76 

The stranger drew the chair immediately before him, 

AND seating himself, LEANED FORWARD SECRETIVELY . 181 

“And it’s awfully like the light, jumpy sending of 


A GIRL ! ” 195 

The next instant Jack felt himself hurled out into 
the darkness • . 233 


He saw the detective led by, his arms bound behind him 241 

Jack rose to his knees, and began working his way for- 
ward FROM TIE TO TIE 27 1 

With the sharp words he again grasped the key . . 275 

With the boys’ prisoner securely bound to the saddle 

OF THE WANDERING HORSE, THE INDIAN WAS OFF ACROSS 


THE PLAIN 371 

The Indian pulled up in a cloud of dust . . . .375 


YOUNG 


THE 

RAILROADERS 



THE 

YOUNG RAILROADERS 

I 

1 ONE KIND OF WIRELESS 

W HEN, after school that afternoon, Alex Ward 
waved a good-by to his father, the Bixton 
station agent for the Middle Western, and set off 
up the track on the spring’s first fishing, he had 
little thought of exciting experiences ahead of him. 
Likewise, when two hours later a sudden heavy 
shower found him in the woods three miles from home, 
and with but three small fish, it was only with feelings 
of disappointment that he wound up his line and ran 
for the shelter of an old log-cabin a hundred yards 
back from the stream. 

Scarcely had Alex reached the doorway of the 
deserted house when he was startled by a chorus of 
excited voices from the rear. He turned quickly to 
a window, and with a cry sprang back out of sight. 
Emerging from the woods, excitedly talking and ges- 
ticulating, was a party of foreigners who had been 
working on the track near Bixton, and in their midst, 
3 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

his hands bound behind him, was Hennessy, their 
foreman. 

For a moment Alex stood rooted to the spot. 
What did it mean? Suddenly realizing his own pos- 
sible danger, he caught up his rod and fish, and sprang 
for the door. 

On the threshold he sharply halted. In the open he 
would be seen at once, and pursued! He turned and 
cast a quick glance round the room. The ladder to the 
loft ! He darted for it, scrambled up, and drew himself 
through the opening just as the excited foreigners 
poured in through the door below. For some moments 
afraid to move, Alex lay on his back, listening to the 
hubbub beneath him, and wondering in terror what the 
trackmen intended doing with their prisoner. Then, 
gathering courage at their continued ignorance of his 
presence, he cautiously moved back to the opening and 
peered down. 

The men were gathered in the center of the room, 
all talking at once. But he could not see the foreman. 
As he leaned farther forward heavy footfalls sounded 
about the end of the house, and Big Tony, a huge 
Italian who had recently been discharged from the 
gang, appeared in the doorway. 

We puta him in da barn,” he announced in broken 
English; for the rest of the gang were Poles. ‘‘ To- 
maso, he watcha him. 

An’ now listen,” continued the big trackman 
fiercely, as the rest gathered about him. I did n’t 
tell everyt’ing. Besides disa man Hennessy he say 
4 


ONE KIND OF WIRELESS 


cuta da wage, an’ send for odders take your job, he 
tella da biga boss you no worka good, so da biga boss 
he no pay you for all da last mont’ ! ” 

The ignorantly credulous Poles uttered a shout of 
rage. Several cried: ‘‘ Keel him! Keel him! ” Alex, 
in the loft, drew back in terror. 

‘‘No! Dere bettera way dan dat,” said Tony. 
“ Da men to taka your job come to-night on da Nom- 
ber Twent’. I hava da plan. 

“ You alia know da old track dat turn off alonga da 
riv’ to da old brick-yard? Well, hunerd yard from da 
main line da old track she washed away. We will 
turn da old switch, Nomber Twent’ she run on da old 
track — an’ swoosh ! Into da riv’ ! ” 

Run No. 20 into the river! Alex almost cried aloud. 
And he knew the plan would succeed — that, as Big 
Tony said, a hundred yards from the main-line track 
the old brick-yard siding embankment was washed out 
so that the rails almost hung in the air. 

“ Dena we all say,” went on Big Tony, “ we alia 
say, Hennessy, he do it. We say we caughta him. 
See?” 

Again Alex glanced down, and with hope he saw 
that some of the Poles were hesitating. But Tony 
quickly added : “ An’ no one else be kill buta da strike- 
break’. No odder peoples on da Nomber Twent’ disa 
day at night. An’ da trainmen dey alia have plent’ 
time to jomp. 

“ Only da men wat steala your job,” he repeated 
craftily. And with a sinking heart Alex saw that 
5 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

the rest of the easily excitable foreigners had been 
won. 

Again he moved back out of sight. Something must 
be done ! If he could only reach the barn and free the 
foreman ! 

But of course the first thing to do was to make his 
own escape from the house. He rose on his elbow and 
glanced about. 

At the far end of the loft a glimmer of light through 
a crack seemed to indicate a door. Cautiously Alex 
rose to his knees, and began creeping forward to in- 
vestigate. When half way a loud creak of the boards 
brought him to a halt with his heart in his mouth. 
But the loud conversation below continued, and heart- 
ily thanking the drumming rain on the roof overhead, 
Alex moved on, and finally reached his goal. 

As he had hoped, it was a small door. Feeling cau- 
tiously about, he found it to be secured by a hook. 
When he sought to raise the catch, however, it re- 
sisted. Evidently it had not been lifted for many 
years, and had rusted to the staple. Carefully Alex 
threw his weight upward against it. It still refused 
to move. He pushed harder, and suddenly it gave 
with a piercing screech. 

Instantly the talking below ceased, and Alex stood 
rigid, scarcely breathing. Then a voice exclaimed. 

Up de stair ! ’’ quick footsteps crossed the floor 
towards the ladder, and in a panic of fear Alex threw 
himself bodily against the door, in a mad endeavor to 
force it. But it still held, and with a thrill of despair 
6 



4<l 


NOW I AM GOING TO CUT YOUR CORDS,” ALEX WENT ON SOFTLY. 






ONE KIND OF WIRELESS 


he dropped flat to the floor, and saw the foreigner’s 
head come above the opening. 

There, however, the man paused, and turned to 
gaze about, listening. For a brief space, while only 
the rain on the roof broke the silence, the foreigner 
apparently looked directly at the boy on the floor, and 
Alex’s heart seemed literally to stand still. But at 
last, after what appeared an interminable time, the 
man again turned, and withdrew, and with a sigh of 
relief Alex heard him say to those below, Only de 
wind, dat’s all.” 

Waiting until the buzz of conversation had been 
fully resumed, Alex rose once more to his knees, and 
began a cautious examination of the door. The cause 
of its refusal to open was soon apparent. The old 
hinges had given, allowing it to sag and catch against 
a raised nail-head in the sill. 

Promptly Alex stood upright, grasped one of the 
cross-pieces, carefully lifted, and in another moment 
the door swung silently outward. 

With a glance Alex saw that the way was clear, and 
quickly lowering himself by his hands, dropped. Here 
the rain once more helped him. On the wet, soggy 
ground he alighted with scarcely a sound. Momen- 
tarily, however, though he now breathed easily for the 
first time since he had entered the house, he stood, lis- 
tening. The excited talking inside went on uninter- 
ruptedly, and moving to the corner, he peered about 
in the direction of the bam. 

Leaning in the doorway, smoking, and most for- 

9 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


tunately, with his back towards the house, was the 
Italian, Tomaso. Beyond doubt the foreman was in- 
side ! 

At the rear of the barn, and some hundred feet from 
where Alex stood, was a small cow-stable. Alex de- 
termined to make an effort to reach it, and see if 
from there he could not get, unseen, into the barn 
itself. 

The Italian continued to smoke peacefully, and 
with his eyes constantly on him Alex stepped forth, 
and set off across the clearing on tiptoe. The guard 
puffed on, and he neared the stable. Then suddenly 
the man moved, and made as though to turn. But 
with a bound Alex shot forward on the run, made the 
remaining distance, and was out of view. 

The rear door of the stable was open. On tiptoe 
Alex made his way inside. The door leading into the 
barn also was ajar. With bated breath, pausing after 
each step, Alex went forward, reached it, and peered 
within. 

Yes, the foreman was there, a dim figure sitting on 
the floor a few feet from him. But the outer doorway, 
in which stood the man on guard, also was only a few 
feet away, and at once Alex saw that the problem of 
reaching the foreman without being discovered was 
to be a difficult one. Trusting to the now gathering 
gloom of the twilight, however, Alex determined to 
make a try. Opening his knife and holding it in his 
teeth, he sank to the floor, and began slowly worming 
his way forward, flat on his stomach. It was a nerve- 
10 


ONE KIND OF WIRELESS 


trying ordeal. A dozen times he was sure the crack- 
ling straw had betrayed him. But pluckily he kept 
on, inch by inch, and finally was almost within touch 
of the unsuspecting prisoner. 

Then very softly he hissed. Sharply, as he had 
feared, the foreman twisted about. But at the mo- 
ment, by great good luck, the foreigner at the door 
turned to knock his pipe against the door-post, and 
hurriedly Alex whispered, ‘‘ Don’t move, Mr. Hen- 
nessy! It ’s Alex Ward! I was in the old house, and 
saw them bring you up. 

And, Mr. Hennessy, they plan to run Twenty into 
the river to-night. Tony told them there were strike- 
breakers aboard her to take their places.” 

In spite of himself the foreman uttered a low ex- 
clamation. At once the man in the door turned. But 
with quick presence of mind the prisoner changed the 
exclamation to a loud cough, and after a moment, 
while Alex lay holding his breath, the Italian turned 
his attention again to his pipe. 

Now I am going to cut your cords,” Alex went 
on softly. “ Be careful not to let your arms seem to 
be free.” 

The foreman nodded. 

‘‘ There,” announced Alex as the twine dropped 
from the prisoner’s wrists. 

Now, what shall we do? There is a door behind 
you into the cow-stable — the one I came in by. Sup- 
pose you work back towards it as far as you dare, 
then make a dash for it?” 


11 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


‘‘ Good/’ whispered the foreman over his shoulder. 
‘‘ But ]^u get out first.” 

“ All right,” responded Alex, and immediately be- 
gan moving backwards, feet first, as he had come. 

Their escape was to be made more easy, however. 
At the moment from the house came a call. The man 
in the doorway stepped out to reply, and in an instant 
seeing the opportunity, both Alex and the foreman 
were on their feet, and had darted out into the stable. 

Now for a sprint! ” said the foreman. 

Or, say, suppose I hide here in the stable,” sug- 
gested Alex. ‘‘ They don’t know of my being here. 
Then as soon as the way is clear I can get off in the 
opposite direction, and one of us would be sure to 
get away.” 

Good idea,” agreed the foreman. All right, 
you — ” 

There came a loud cry from the barn, and instantly 
he was off, and Alex, darting back, crept low under 
a stall-box. As he did so the Italian dashed by and 
out, and uttered a second cry as he discovered the flee- 
ing foreman. From the house came an answer, then 
a chorus of shouts that told the rest of the gang had 
joined in the chase. 

Alex lay still until the last sound of pursuit had 
died away, then slipped forth, glanced sharply about, 
and dashed off for the woods in the direction of the 
river and the railroad bridge. 

The adventure was not yet over, however. Alex 
had almost reached the shelter of the trees, and was 
12 


ONE KIND OF WIRELESS 


already congratulating himself on his safety, when 
suddenly from the opposite side of the clearing rose 
a shout of ‘‘ De boy! De boy!'’ Glancing back in 
alarm he saw several of the Poles cutting across in an 
endeavor to head him off. 

Onward he dashed with redoubled speed. With a 
final rush he reached the trees ahead of them, and 
plunging into the friendly gloom, darted on recklessly, 
diving between trunks, and over logs and bushes like 
a young hare. 

A quarter of a mile Alex ran desperately, then 
halted, panting, to listen. Not a sound save his own 
breathing broke the stillness. Surely, thought Alex, 
I have n't shaken them off that easily, unless they 
were already winded from their chase after — 

Off to the right rose a shrill whistle. From imme- 
diately to the left came an answer. Then he under- 
stood. They were heading him off from the railroad 
and the river spur. 

Alex's heart sank, and momentarily he stood, in 
despair. Then suddenly he thought of the old brick- 
yard. It lay less than a mile north, and was full of 
good hiding-places! If he could reach it ahead of 
them, what with the daylight now rapidly failing, he 
would almost certainly be safe. At once he turned, 
and was off with renewed vigor. 

And finally, utterly exhausted, but cheered through 
not having heard a sound from his pursuers for the 
last quarter mile, Alex stumbled into the clearing of 
the abandoned brick-works, ran low for a distance 
15 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


under cover of a long drying-frame, and scrambling 
through the low doorway of an old tile oven, threw 
himself upon the floor, done out, but confident that 
at last he was safe. 

As he lay panting and listening, Alex turned his 
thoughts again to the train. Had the foreman made 
his escape? With so many promptly after him, it 
seemed scarcely probable. Then the saving of Twenty 
was still upon his own shoulders! 

And there was little time in which to do anything, 
for she was due at 7 150, and it must be after 7 already ! 

Could he not reach the switch itself, and throw it 
back just before the train was due? That would be 
surest. And in the rapidly growing darkness there 
should be at least a fair chance of getting by any of 
the foreigners who might be on the watch. 

Determinedly Alex gathered himself together, and 
crawled back to the entrance. Near the doorway he 
stumbled over something. Oh, our old switch lan- 
tern! he exclaimed, holding it to the light, and mo- 
mentarily paused to examine it. For it had been placed 
under cover there the previous fall by himself and 
some other boys, after being used in a game of 
hold-up ’’ on the brick-yard siding. 

Just as we left it,’' said Alex to himself, and was 
about to put it aside, when he paused with a start, 
studied it sharply a moment, then uttered a cry, shook 
it to see that it still contained oil, and scrambled hur- 
riedly forth, taking it with him. 

A moment he paused to listen, then set off on the 
16 




HELD IT OVER THE BULL’s-EYE, ALTERNATELY COVERING AND 
UNCOVERING THE STREAM OF LIGHT. 


ONE KIND OF WIRELESS 


run for the old yard semaphore, dimly discernible a 
hundred yards distant. Reaching it, he caught the 
lantern in his teeth, and ran up the ladder hand over 
hand, clambered onto the little platform, and turned 
toward the town. 

Yes! Through the trees the station lamps were 
plainly visible ! With a cry of delight Alex at once set 
about carrying out his inspiration. Quickly trimming 
the lantern wick, he lit it, with his handkerchief tied 
it to the semaphore arm, and turned it so that the 
bull’s-eye pointed toward the station. 

Then, catching off his cap, he held it over the bull’s- 
eye, and alternately covering and uncovering the 
stream of light, began flashing across the darkness 
signals that corresponded with the telegraphic call of 
the Bixton station. 

‘‘ BX,” he flashed. BX, BX, BX ! 

‘‘BX, BX — AW (his private sign)! BX, BX, 
AW!” 

The station lights streamed on. 

Qk ! Qk ! BX, BX ! ” called Alex. 

His right hand tired, and he changed to the left. 

Surely they should be on the lookout for me, and see 
it,” he told himself. For when I go fishing I am 
always home at — ” 

One of the station lights disappeared. Breathlessly 
Alex repeated his call, and waited. Was it merely 
some one pulling down a blind, or — 

The light appeared again, then disappeared, several 
times in quick succession, and Alex uttered a joyful 
17 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Hurrah ! ’’ and turning his whole attention to the 
lamp, that the signals might be perfect, began flashing 
across the night his thrilling message of warning: 
THE FOREIGN TRACK HANDS — ’’ 

From a short distance down the spur came a shout. 
Startled, Alex hesitated. Again came a cry, then the 
sound of swiftly running feet. 

He had been discovered! In a panic Alex turned 
and began to scramble down the ladder. But sharply 
he pulled up. No! That would be playing the cow- 
ard! He must complete the message! And bravely 
choking down his terror, he climbed back onto the 
platform, and while the running feet and threatening 
cries came nearer every moment, continued his mes- 
sage : 

“ HANDS ARE — ’’ 

‘‘ Stop dat ! Queek ! I shoot ! I shoot ! ” cried the 
voice of Big Tony, immediately below him. Again 
for a moment Alex quailed, then again went bravely 
on, while the old semaphore rocked and swayed as the 
enraged Italian threw himself at it and scrambled up 
toward him. 

GOING TO RUN — ” 

With a plunge the big trackman reached up and 
caught him by the ankle, wrenched him back from the 
lantern, and clambered up beside him. Catching the 
light oflF the semaphore arm, he thrust it into the boy’s 
face. “ O ho ! ” he exclaimed. So it you, da station- 
man boy, eh? An’ you da one whata help Hennessy 
get away, eh? 


18 


ONE KIND OF WIRELESS 


‘‘An’ whata now you do wid dis?” he demanded 
fiercely, indicating the lantern. 

“ If you can’t guess, I’m not going to tell you,” de- 
clared Alex stoutly, though his heart was in his throat. 

“O ho! You wonta, eh? Alla right,” said Tony 
softly through his teeth, and in a grim silence more 
terrifying than the threat of his words, he blew the 
lantern out, tossed it to the ground, and proceeding 
to clamber down, grasped Alex by the leg and dragged 
him down after. 

But help was at hand. As they reached the ground 
a second tall figure loomed up suddenly out of the 
darkness. ‘‘Who dat?” demanded Big Tony. The 
answer was a rush, and a blow, and with a throttled 
cry of terror the big track worker went to the ground 
in a heap, the foreman on top of him. 

Alex uttered a cry of joy, then with quick wit, while 
the two men engaged in a terrific struggle, he darted 
in search of the lantern, found it, fortunately unbroken, 
and in a trice was again running up the semaphore 
ladder. 

As he once more reached his post on the platform 
the big Italian succeeded in breaking from the fore- 
man, scrambled to his feet, and dashed off across the 
brick-yard. “ Come down, Alex. It ’s all over,” 
called Hennessy, gathering himself up. “ And now 
we ’ve got to hike right off, a mile a minute, for the 
main-line if we are to stop that train. They ran me 
so far I only just got back. Unless Twenty ’s late 


19 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


I am trying to stop her from up here,” interrupted 
Alex, relighting the lantern. 

Up there ? What do you mean ? ” exclaimed the 
foreman. 

‘‘ Signalling father at the station, with the telegraph 
code,” said Alex as he replaced the lantern on the 
semaphore arm. Come on up.” 

“ Al,” said the incredulous foreman as he reached 
the platform, can you really do it? ” 

‘‘ I had it going when that Italian stopped me. 
Watch.” 

But Alex was doomed again to interruption. 
Scarcely had he begun once more flashing forth the 
telegraph call of the station when from the direction 
of the woods came a shout, several answers, then a 
rush of feet. 

Some of the Poles ! ” exclaimed the foreman. 

But you go ahead, Al, and I ’ll see that they don’t 
get up to interfere,” he added, determinedly. 

The running figures came dimly into view below. 
** If any of you idiots come up here I ’ll crack your 
heads ! ” shouted Hennessy, warningly. 

I ’ve got the station again,” announced Alex. 

Now it will take only a few minutes.” 

One of the men below reached the ladder, and, look- 
ing up, shouted threateningly : ‘‘ Stop dat ! Stop dat, 
or I shoot ! ” 

Go ahead, Al,” said the foreman, looking down. 

He has n’t a gun.” But even as he spoke there was 
a flash and a report, and a thud just over Alex’s head. 

20 


ONE KIND OF WIRELESS 


Yes, stop! Stop!” cried the foreman. “Stop. 
They Ve got us. No use being foolhardy.” 

Leaning over, he addressed the men below. “ Look 
here,” he said, persuasively, “ can’t you fellows see 
that Big Tony is only using you to make trouble for 
me, because I fired him for being drunk? As I told 
you at first, everything he has said is untrue. Why 
won’t you believe it? ” 

The men were silent a moment, then one of them 
addressed Alex. “ Boy, is dat true?” 

“ Every word of it,” said Alex, earnestly. “ And 
I would have heard all about it at the station if they 
had intended cutting your wages, or bringing others 
here to take your places.” 

“ Den I believe it,” said the Pole. 

The man with the pistol returned it to his pocket. 
“ I am sorry I shoot,” he said. 

“ And now, what about the train ? ” inquired the 
foreman, quickly. “ Did you touch the switch ? ” 

In the look of guilt the foreigners turned on one 
another he saw the alarming answer. Whipping out 
his watch, he held it to the light. 

“ Alex,” he said, sharply, “ you have just ten 
minutes to catch that train at the Junction! If 
you don’t get her she ’s gone ! There ’s not time 
now to get down to the main line from here to flag 
her!” 

Before he had ceased speaking Alex had his cap 
over the light and was once more flashing an urgent 
“ BX ! BX ! BX ! ” while below the foreigners looked 
21 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


on, now with an anxiety equal to that of the two on 
the tower. 

BX! Qk! Qk! ” flashed the lantern. 

The station light disappeared. ‘‘Got 'em!” cried 
Alex. 

“ Just tell them first to stop Twenty at the Junc- 
tion,” said the foreman. 

“ Right,” responded Alex, and while the rest 
watched in profound silence, he signaled: 

“ STOP NUMBER 20 AT JUNCTION. SPUR 
SWITCH IS THROWN. GOT IT? ” 

As Alex read ofif the promptly flashed “ OK,” the 
foreman sprang to his feet and gave vent to a joyful 
hurrah of relief that echoed again in the clearing and 
woods. Then, as Alex recovered the lantern, he 
caught him under one arm, carried him down the lad- 
der, and there, despite his objections, hoisted him to 
the shoulders of two of the now enthusiastic Poles, 
and all set ofif jubilantly down the spur for the switch, 
and home. 

And an hour later Alex's father and mother, 
anxiously awaiting him at the station, discov- 
ered his approach carried at the head of a sort of 
triumphal procession of the entire gang of track- 
men. 

When Alex's father the following morning reported 
the occurrence to the chief despatcher, that official 
called Alex to the wire to congratulate him person- 
ally. 

“ That was a fine bit of work, my boy,” he clicked. 

22 


ONE KIND OF WIRELESS 


** I see you are cut out for the right kind of railroader. 
If fourteen was n’t a bit too young I would give you 
a job on the spot. But we will give you a start just 
as soon as we can, you may be sure.” 


23 


II 


AN ORIGINAL EMERGENCY BATTERY 

O NE afternoon two weeks later Alex returned 
from school to find his father and mother hur- 
riedly packing his suit-case. 

Why, what ’s up, Dad ? '' he exclaimed. 

" You are off for Watson Siding in twenty minutes, 
to take charge of the station there nights,’’ said his 
father. The regular man is ill, the despatcher had 
no one else to send, and asked for you, and of course 
I told him you ’d be delighted.” 

Delighted? Well, rather! ” cried Alex, gleefully, 
and throwing his school-books into a corner, he dashed 
up-stairs to change his clothes, hastily ate a lunch his 
mother had prepared, and fifteen minutes later was 
hurrying for the depot. 

Needless to say Alex was a proud boy when shortly 
after seven o’clock he reached Watson Siding, and at 
once took over the station for the night. For it is 
not often a lad of fourteen is given such responsibility, 
even though brought up on the railroad. 

Alex was soon to learn that the responsibility was a 
very real one. The first night passed pleasantly 
enough, but early the succeeding night, following a 
day of rain, a heavy spring fog set in, and shortly be- 
24 


AN ORIGINAL EMERGENCY BATTERY 


fore ten o’clock Alex found, to his alarm, that he could 
not make himself heard on the wire by the despatcher. 
Evidently there was a heavy escape of current between 
them, because of the dampness. 

Again the despatcher called, again Alex sought to 
interrupt him, failed, and gave it up. ‘‘ Now I am 
in for trouble,” he said in dismay. “ If anything 
should — ” 

From apparently just without came a low, ominous 
rumble, then a crash. Alex started to his feet and 
ran to the window. He could see nothing but fog, 
and hastily securing a lantern, went out onto the sta- 
tion platform. 

As he closed the door there was a second terrific 
crash, from the darkness immediately opposite, and a 
rain of stones rattling against iron. 

The bank above the siding ! ” cried Alex, and 
springing to the tracks, he dashed across, and with an 
exclamation brought up before a mound of earth six 
feet high over the siding rails. 

As he gazed Alex felt his heart tighten. The west- 
bound Sunset Express was due to take the siding in 
less than half an hour, to await the Eastern Mail, and 
at once he saw that if the engineer misjudged the dis- 
tance in the fog, and ran onto the’siding at full speed, 
there would be a terrible calamity. 

And suppose the cars were thrown onto the main 
line track, and the Mail crashed into them ! And, ap- 
parently, he could not reach the despatcher, to give 
warning of her danger ! 


25 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


What could he do to stop them? Helplessly Alex 
looked at the lantern in his hand. Its light was 
smothered by the fog within ten feet of him. 

Running back to the operating room he seized the 
key and once more sought to attract the attention of the 
despatcher. It was useless. The despatcher did not 
hear him. He sank back in his chair, sick with dread. 

But he must attempt something! Determinedly he 
sprang to his feet. A lantern was useless. Then why 
not a fire? A big fire on the track? Hurrah! That 
was it ! But — he gazed at the coal box, and thought 
of the rain soaked wood outside, and his heart sank. 
Then came remembrance of the big woodshed at the 
farm-house where he boarded, three hundred yards 
away, and in a moment he had recovered the lantern, 
and was out, and off through the darkness, running 
desperately. 

On arriving at the house Alex found all in silence, 
and the family retired, but without a moment’s hesi- 
tation he threw himself at the front door, pounding 
upon it with his fists. 

It seemed an age before a window was raised. 

Mr. Moore,” he cried, “ there -has been a landslide 
in the cut at the station, and there is danger of the 
Sunset running into it. May I have wood from the 
shed to make a fire on the track to stop her? ” 

Gracious ! Certainly, certainly ! ” exclaimed the 
voice from the window. ‘‘ And the boys and I will 
be down in a minute to help you. You run around 
and be pulling out some kindling.” 

26 



THREW HIMSELF AT THE FRONT DOOR, POUNDING UPON 
IT WITH HIS FISTS 





AN ORIGINAL EMERGENCY BATTERY 


Alex darted about to the woodshed, there the farmer 
and his two sons soon joined him, and each catching 
up an armful of wood, they were quickly off for the 
railroad, Alex leading with the lantern. 

Reaching the tracks, they hurried east, and a quar- 
ter mile distant halted, and began hastily building a 
huge bonfire between the rails. 

‘‘ There,” said Alex, as the flames leaped up, that 
ought to stop her.” 

‘‘ And now, Mr. Moore, suppose we leave Dick here 
to tend the fire, and you and Billy and I hurry back 
to the station, and tackle the earth on the track. We 
may get enough off to let the train plow through.” 

All right, certainly,” ^agreed the farmer; and re- 
tracing their steps, the three secured shovels and more 
lanterns at the depot, and soon were hard at work on 
the obstructed siding. 

They had been digging some ten minutes when sud- 
denly Billy paused. ‘‘ Listen,” he said. There ’s a 
horse coming, on the run.” His father and Alex also 
ceased shoveling, and a moment later the quick pound- 
ing of horse’s hoofs was plainly discernible. 

“ It must be something urgent to make a man drive 
like that in the dark,” said Mr. Moore. 

The racing hoofs drew nearer, and placing his hands 
to his mouth he cried : Hello ! What ’s up ? ” 

There was a sound of scrambling and plunging, and 
out of the darkness came a man’s excited voice : ‘‘ How 
near am I to the station? ” 

Right here below you!” 

29 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Thank God ! Run quick and tell the operator 
there has been a landslip in the big cutting just beyond 
the river! My son discovered it when coming home 
by the track from a party ! I thought I could get here 
quicker than do anything else I 

For a moment Alex stood speechless at this further 
calamity, then once more dashed for the station. To 
reach Zeisler, two miles west of the cut, was the only 
hope for the Mail. 

Rushing in to the instruments, he in feverish haste be- 
gan calling Z. Z, Zr he whirled. Qk ! Z, Z, WS 

There was no answer. Z heard him no more than 
did the despatcher. 

A feeling of despair settled upon the boy. But again 
returned the old spirit of determination and contriving, 
and spinning about in his chair, he cast his eyes around 
the room for some suggestion. They halted at the big 
stoneware water-cooler. With a cry he was on his 
feet, thinking rapidly. 

Only a few hours before, during an idle moment, 
the similarity of the big jar to a gravity cell had oc- 
curred to him, and the speculation as to whether it 
could not be turned into a battery if need be. 

Could he really make a battery of it? If he could, 
undoubtedly it would be strong enough to so increase 
the current in the wire that both Zeisler and the des- 
patcher could hear him. 

He ran to a little storage closet at the rear of the 
room. Yes; there was enough bluestone! But no 
copper, or zinc ! What could he do for that ? 

30 


AN ORIGINAL EMERGENCY BATTERY 


As though directed by Providence, his gaze fell on 
the floor-board of the office stove. It was covered with 
a sheet of zinc! And even as he uttered a glad 
“Good!’’ there came the remembrance that at the 
house that afternoon he had seen a fine new wash- 
boiler — with a thick copper bottom. 

‘‘ That ’s it,’’ cried Alex, again catching up the lan- 
tern and darting for the door. 

A short distance from the depot Alex was halted by 
a long, muffled whistle from the east. The Express,” 
he exclaimed, and in keen anxiety awaited the next 
whistle. Would it be for the crossing this side of the 
bonfire, or — 

It came, a series of quick, sharp toots. Yes; they 
had seen the fire! 

‘‘ Thank Heaven ! She ’s safe at any rate,” said 
Alex, at once running on. 

A few minutes later he burst into Mrs. Moore’s 
kitchen. The farmer’s wife was at the stove, prepar- 
ing coffee for them. 

‘‘ Mrs. Moore, where is your new copper-bottomed 
boiler? I must have it, quick,” said Alex. 

What! My new wash-boiler? ” 

Yes; the copper-bottomed one. It’s a matter of 
life and death ! ” 

The astonished woman hesitated, then, wonder- 
ingly, pointed toward the outer kitchen. Alex ran 
thither, and quickly reappeared with the fine new 
boilef on his shoulder. 

And I must have that kettle of boiling water,” he 
31 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


added, on a thought. I ’ll explain later.” And 
catching it from the stove, he rushed away. 

As he ran Alex further thought out his plans, and 
once more at the station, he placed the kettle on the 
office stove, emptied the bluestone into it, and poked 
up the fire. 

Then, with a hammer and chisel, he attacked the 
copper bottom of the boiler. 

He was still pounding and cutting when presently 
there was the sound of hurried footsteps without, the 
door flew open, and a voice exclaimed : ‘‘ In Heaven’s 
name, young man, what are you doing ? Why are you 
not at your wire, trying to stop the other train? ” 

It was none other than the division superintendent 
of the road, who had been aboard the Sunset. 

Only pausing a moment in his work, Alex replied: 
‘‘ I can’t reach anybody, sir, the wire is so weak. I 
am making a battery of that water-cooler, to 
strengthen it. It ’s the only hope, sir.” 

The superintendent uttered a horrified exclamation, 
then quickly added: Here, can’t I help you? ” 

Yes, sir,” replied Alex, promptly. Lift up the 
stove and slide out the floor-board. I must have the 
sheet of zinc off it.” 

And a few minutes later a group of passengers from 
the stalled train, seeking the cause of . delay, paused 
in the doorway to gaze in blank astonishment at the 
spectacle of the division superintendent of the Middle 
Western, his coat off, energetically working under the 
direction of his youngest operator. 

32 


IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FLOOR, 
WORKING WITH 


THE CENTER OF ALL EYES, 
CHISEL AND HAMMER. 


HURRIEDLY 



« 










AN ORIGINAL EMERGENCY BATTERY 


There you are, my lad,” said the superintendent. 
‘‘ What next?” 

“ Get a stick, sir, and stir the bluestone in the kettle. 
We must have it dissolved if the battery is to work 
the moment we connect it to the wire.” 

The copper bottom of the boiler was at last cut 
through, and hastily doubling it over several times, 
in order that it would lie flat in the crock, Alex turned 
his attention to the zinc on the stove-board. 

The scene in the little station had now become 
dramatic — the crowd of passengers, increased until it 
half filled the room, looking on in strained silence, or 
talking in whispers ; the tall figure of the superintend- 
ent at the stove, busily stirring the kettle, and in the 
middle of the floor, the center of all eyes, the fourteen- 
year-old boy hurriedly working with chisel and ham- 
mer, seemingly only conscious of the task before him 
and the necessity of making the most of every minute. 

The zinc was cut, and hurriedly folding it as he had 
the copper, Alex sprang to his feet, and running to 
the cupboard, dragged out a bundle of wire, and began 
sorting out a number of short ends. 

‘‘ How much longer? ” said the superintendent in a 
tense voice. ‘‘ The train should be at Zeisler now.” 

Just a minute. But she ’s sure to be a little late, 
from the fog,” said Alex, hopefully, never pausing. 

Has the bluestone dissolved, sir?” 

‘‘ All but a few lumps.” 

Then that ’ll do. Now please lift down the water- 
cooler, sir, and place it by the table.” 

35 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


As the superintendent complied all conversation 
ceased, and the crowd, moving hurriedly out of the 
way, looked on breathlessly, then turned to Alex, on 
his knees, fastening two pieces of wire to the squares 
of copper and zinc. 

This done, Alex dropped the square of copper to 
the bottom of the big jar, hung the zinc from the top, 
connected one wire end to the ground connection at 
the switchboard, and the other to the side of the key. 
And the task was complete. 

Now the kettle, sir,’’ he said, dropping into his 
chair. The superintendent seized the kettle, and emp- 
tied its blue-green liquid into the cooler. The moment 
the water had covered the zinc Alex opened his key. 

It worked strongly and sharply. 

“ Thank God ! Thank God ! ” said the superintend- 
ent, fervently. Now, hurry, boy! ” 

Already Alex was whirring off a string of letters. 

Z, Z, Z, WS 1 ” he called. Qk ! Qk I Z, Z — ” 

The line opened, and at the quick sharp dots that 
came Alex could not restrain a cry of triumph. It 
works ! I ’ve got him,” he exclaimed. Then rapidly 
he sent: 

''Has Number 12 passed?” 

The line again opened, and over the boy leaned a 
circle of white, anxious faces. Had the train passed? 
Had it gone on to destruction? Or — 

The instruments clicked. "No! No! He says, 
no ! ” cried Alex. 

And then, while the crowd about him relieved its 

36 


AN ORIGINAL EMERGENCY BATTERY 


pent-up feelings in wild shouts and hurrahs, Alex 
quickly sent the order to stop the train. 

And now three good cheers for the little oper- 
ator,” said one of the passengers as Alex closed his 
key. In confusion Alex drew back in his chair, then 
suddenly recollecting the others who had taken part 
in the night’s work, he told the superintendent of the 
part played by Mr. Moore and his sons, and of the 
sacrifice of Mrs. Moore’s new wash-boiler. 

“ And then there was the man on the horse, who 
told us of the slide in the cut across the river. He 
was the real one to save the Mail,” said Alex, modestly. 

I see you are as fair as you are ingenious,” said 
the superintendent, smiling. ‘‘We ’ll look after them 
all, you may be sure. By the first express Mrs. Moore 
shall have two, instead of one, of the finest boilers 
money can buy. And as for you, my boy, I ’ll see that 
you are given a permanent station within a year, if 
you wish to take it. We need resourceful operators 
like you.” 


37 


Ill 


A TINKER WHO MADE GOOD 

M ost telegraph operators, young operators es- 
pecially, have a number of over-the-wire 
friends. Alex Ward's particular telegraph chum was 
Jack Orr, or OR," as he knew him on the wire, a 
lad of just his own age, son of the proprietor of the 
drug-store in which the town, or commercial, office 
was located at Haddowville, a small place at the end 
of the line. The two boys had become warm friends 
through ‘‘ sending " for one another's improvement in 
reading," in the evenings when the wire was idle ; 
but also because of the similarities of taste they had 
discovered. Both were fond of experimenting, and 
learning the ‘‘ why and wherefore " of things electrical. 

And not infrequently they got themselves into 
trouble, as young investigators will. 

One evening that summer, the instruments being 
silent. Jack, at Haddowville, bethought himself of 
taking the relay, the main receiving instrument, to 
pieces, to discover exactly how the wire connections 
in the base were arranged. To think with Jack was 
to act. Half an hour later his father, entering with 
an important message, found Jack with the instrument 
in a dozen pieces. 


38 


A TINKER WHO MADE GOOD 


Mr. Orr viewed the muss with consternation. Then 
he spoke sharply. ‘‘ Jack, if that relay is not together 
again, and working, in five minutes, I dl take you out 
to the woodshed! ’’ Needless to say. Jack threw him- 
self into the restoring of the instrument with ardor, 
while his father stood grimly by. And fortunately the 
relay was in its place again, and clicking, within the 
prescribed time. 

‘‘ But don’t let me ever catch you tinkering with the 
instruments again,” said Jack’s father warningly, as 
he gave Jack the message to send. Another time 
it ’ll be the woodshed whether you get them together 
or no. Remember ! ” 

Shortly after midnight the night following Jack 
suddenly found himself sitting up in bed, wondering 
what had awakened him. From the street below came 
the sound of running feet, simultaneously the window 
lighted with a yellow glare, and with a bound and an 
exclamation of ‘‘ Fire! ” Jack was across the room and 
peering out. 

Jones’ coal sheds ! Or the station ! ” he ejaculated, 
and in a moment was back at the bedside, dressing as 
only a boy can dress for a fire. Running to his parents’ 
bedroom he told them of his going, and was down the 
stairs and out into the street in a trice. 

Dim figures of men and other boys were hurrying 
by in the direction of the town fire-hall, a block dis- 
tant, and on the run Jack also headed thither. For 
to help pull the fire-engine or hose-cart to a fire was 
the ardent hobby of every lad in town. 

39 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


A half dozen members of the volunteer fire company 
and as many boys were at the doors when Jack ar- 
rived, and the fire chief, already equipped with helmet 
and speaking-trumpet, was fumbling at the lock. 

‘‘Where is it, Billy?” inquired Jack of a boy ac- 
quaintance. 

“ They say it ’s the station and freight shed, and 
Johnson's lumber yard, and the coal sheds — the whole 
shooting match,” said Billy, hopefully. 

“ Bully! ” responded Jack; who, never having seen 
his own home in flames, likewise regarded fires as 
the most thrilling sort of entertainment. 

“ Out of the way I ” cried the chief. The big doors 
swung open, and with a rush the little crowd divided 
and went at the old-fashioned hand-engine and the 
hose-cart. Billy and Jack secured the particular prize, 
the head of the engine drag-rope, and like a pair of 
young colts pranced out with it to its full length. 
Others seized it, and with the cry of “ Let 'er go I ” 
they went rumbling forth, and swung up the street. 

The hose-cart, with its automatic gong, clanged out 
immediately after, and the race that always occurred 
was on. The engine of course had the start, but the 
hose-cart, a huge two- wheeled reel, about which the 
hose was wound, was much lighter, and speedily was 
clanging abreast of them. Here, however. Big Ed. 
Hicks, the blacksmith, and Nick White, a colored 
giant, rushed up, dodged beneath the rope, and took 
their accustomed places at the tongue, and with a 
burst of speed the engine began to draw ahead. Other 
40 


A TINKER WHO MADE GOOD 

firemen appeared from side streets and banging door- 
ways, and took their places on the rope, and a shout 
from the juvenile contingent presently announced that 
the reel was falling to the rear. 

Meanwhile the glare in the sky had brightened and 
spread; and when at last the rumbling engine swung 
into the station road the whole sky was ablaze. Over- 
head, before a stiff wind, large embers and sparks were 
beginning to fly. 

With a dash the panting company swept into the 
station square. Before them the station and adjoin- 
ing freight-shed were enveloped in flames from end 
to end. It was apparent at once that there was no 
possibility of saving either. But with a final rush the 
engine-squad made for the fire-well at the corner of 
the square, brought up all-standing, and in a jiffy the 
intake pipe was unstrapped and dropped into the water. 
The reel clanged up, two of its crew sprang for the 
engine with the hose-end and couplers, and the cart 
sped on, peeling the hose out behind it. 

The speed with which they could get into action 
was a matter of pride with the Haddowville firemen. 
Almost before the coupling had been made at the 
engine the men and boys at the long pumping-bars 
were working them gently ; within the minute a shout 
from the cart announced that the hose was being 
broken, the pumpers threw themselves into the work 
with zest, and the next moment from the distant noz- 
zle shot a sputtering stream. 

With the other boys. Jack, though now considerably 
41 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


winded, was throwing himself energetically up and 
down against one of the long handles. Before many 
minutes, however, the remainder of the regular en- 
ginemen appeared, and took their places, and presently 
Jack also was ousted. 

At once he set ofif for a closer view of the fire. 
Half way he was halted by a call. 

Hi, Jack! Come and help push the freight cars! ’’ 

The shout came from a group of boys running for 
the rear of the burning freight-shed, and responding 
with alacrity, Jack joined them, and soon, just beyond 
the burning building, was pushing against the corner 
of a slowly moving box-car with all his might. 

One car was rolled safely out of the danger zone, 
and Jack's party hastened back for another. The in- 
nermost of the remaining cars, and on a separate sid- 
ing, was but a short distance from the flaming shed, 
and already was blazing on the roof. Jack and several 
other adventurous spirits determined to tackle this one 
on their own account. After much straining they got 
it in motion. 

Suddenly a wildly excited figure appeared rushing 
through the smoke, and shouted at the top of his voice, 
‘‘ Get back ! Get back ! There 's blasting powder in 
that car ! " 

In a twinkle there was a wild stampede. And but 
just in time. With a blinding flash and a roar like 
a thunderbolt, the car shot into the air in a million 
pieces. Many persons in the vicinity were thrown 
violently to the ground, including Jack. As he scram- 
42 


A TINKER WHO MADE GOOD 


bled, thoroughly frightened, to his feet, someone 
shouted, Look out overhead! ’’ and glancing up. Jack 
saw a shower of burning fragments high in the air. 

Then rose the cry, The wind is taking them right 
over the town ! ’’ In alarm many people began leav- 
ing the square for their homes. 

Jack’s own home and the drug-store block were well 
on the other side of the town, however, and with no 
thought of anxiety Jack remained to watch the burning 
station, now a solid mass of flame from ground to roof. 

Presently, glancing toward the opposite corner of 
the square. Jack noted a general, hurried movement 
of the crowd there into the street. He set out to in- 
vestigate. As he neared the fire-engine, still clanking 
vigorously, a bareheaded man rushed up and asked ex- 
citedly for the fire chief. The telephone building and 
a house on Essex Street, and one on the next street 
back, are burning! ” he cried. ‘‘ Quick, and do some- 
thing, or the whole town will be afire ! ” 

Looking in the direction indicated. Jack saw a 
wavering glare, and with a new thrill of excitement 
was immediately off on the run. The telephone ex- 
change was one of the largest buildings in town. 

As he came within sight of the new conflagration 
the flames already were leaping from the roof and 
roaring from the upper windows. Despite the heat, 
the crowd before the building was clustered close about 
the door of the telephone office, and Jack hastened to 
join them, to learn the cause. Making his way through 
the throng, he reached the front as a blanketed figure 
43 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


staggered, smoking, from the doorway. Someone 
sprang forward and caught the blanket from the 
stumbling man, at the same time crying, Did you 
get them? 

‘‘ No,’’ gasped the telephone operator, for Jack saw 
it was he ; the whole office is in flames. I could n’t 
get inside the door.” 

Mayor Davis, the first speaker, turned quickly 
about. Then we ’ll run down to Orr’s and tele- 
graph.” 

At once Jack understood. The mayor wished to 
send for help from other towns. He sprang forward. 
“ I ’m here, Mr. Davis — Jack Orr. I ’ll take a mes- 
sage ! ” 

Good ! ” said the mayor. Run like the wind, 
my boy, and send a telegram to the mayors of Zeisler 
and Hammerton for help. As many steam engines 
as they can spare. And have the railroad people sup- 
ply a special at once. Write the message yourself, 
and sign my name. Tell them four more fires have 
broken out, and that the whole town may be in dan- 
ger.” 

Jack broke through the crowd, and was off like a 
deer. 

Farther down the street he passed another building, 
a small dwelling, burning, with its frightened occu- 
pants and their neighbors hurrying furniture out, and 
fighting the flames with buckets. 

Down the next cross-street he saw flames bursting 
from a second house. 


44 


A TINKER WHO MADE GOOD 


Then it was that the real gravity of the situation 
began to come home to Jack. Till now it had all been 
only a thrilling drama — even the bearing of the 
mayor's urgent message had appeared rather a dra- 
matically prominent stage-part he had had thrust upon 
him. 

On he sped with redoubled speed, and turned into 
the main street. Then his alarm became genuine. 
Lurid flames were licking over the tree-tops directly 
ahead of him — in the direction of the store ! A 
moment later a cry of horror broke from him. It 
was indeed the store block! 

But his own personal alarm was quickly lost in a 
greater. Suppose the telegraph office also should be 
in flames, and he unable to reach it? He ran on 
madly. 

He neared the store, and with hope saw that so far 
the flames were only in the second story. Men were 
hurrying in and out, and from the hardware-store ad- 
joining. But as he rushed to the drug-store door a 
cloud of heavy smoke rolled forth, driving a group 
of men before it. 

Among them he recognized his father. 

‘‘Dad," he cried, “can't I reach the instruments? 
I 've a message for help to Hammerton and Zeisler 
from the mayor! The 'phone office and the station 
are burned. There is no other way of getting word 
out." 

Mr. Orr had halted in consternation. “No; you 
could n't get to them. The telegraph room is a fur- 
45 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


nace. The fire came in through the office windows 
from the outhouse, and I closed the door from the 
store/’ 

Through the haze of smoke within burst a lurid 
fork of flame. 

There ! The fire is out through the telegraph- 
room door,” said the druggist. “You couldn’t get 
near the table. And anyway, Jack, the instruments 
would be useless by this time.” 

It was this remark that aroused Jack. “ If I could 
rip them from the table in any kind of shape, perhaps 
I could fix them up quickly so I could use them,” he 
thought. 

To his father he said with sudden determination, 
“ Dad, I ’m going to make a try for the key and 
relay.” 

“ No. I won’t permit it,” declared Mr. Orr de- 
cisively. 

“ But father, if we don’t get word out the whole 
town may be burned,” cried Jack. 

“ I ’ll make a try myself,” said Mr. Orr, and with- 
out further word lowered his head and dashed back 
into the smoke. 

While Jack stood anxiously awaiting his father’s 
reappearance the owner of the adjacent hardware- 
store stumbled from his doorway under a bundle of 
horse-blankets. With an immediate idea Jack ran 
toward him. “ Mr. Wells, let me have some of those 
blankets,” he said hurriedly. “ We want to try and 
reach the telegraph instruments. They are the only 
46 


A TINKER WHO MADE GOOD 


hope for getting word out of town for help. Father 
is in after them, but I don't think he can reach them 
with nothing over him." 

The merchant promptly threw the whole bundle to 
the ground. ‘‘ Help yourself," he directed. 

At the door again, he called back. Can you use 
anything else?" 

No — Say, yes ! A pair of leather gauntlets." 
The merchant disappeared, reappeared, and threw 
toward Jack a bundle of leather gloves. Many as 
you want," he shouted. 

Catching them up and two of the blankets. Jack 
sprang back for their own store as his father reap- 
peared. 

‘‘ They can't be reached," coughed Mr. Orr. 
‘‘ Could n't even get to the door." 

“ I 'll try with these blankets, then," said Jack de- 
cisively. Throw them over my head, please." 

His father hesitated. ‘‘ But my boy — " 

‘‘ There 's little danger. Dad. The blankets are 
thick. And I know just where the instruments are. 
And see, I 'll wear these gauntlets," he added, pulling 
a pair over his hands. 

Somewhat reluctantly Mr. Orr took the blankets 
and threw them over Jack's head, and on the run 
Jack plunged into the wall of smoke. 

With one gloved hand outstretched he found the 
telegraph-room door, and the knob. He pressed 
against it, and with a crash and then a roar the door 
collapsed before him. But without a moment's hesi- 
47 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


tation he darted on within, groped his way to the 
table, found the relay, and with a desperate wrench 
tore it from its place. The next moment he dashed 
blindly into his father's arms at the outer door, and 
threw the smoking blankets and sizzling, burning re- 
lay to the sidewalk. 

Water on it quick," gasped Jack, pointing to the 
instrument. Catching it up in a corner of one of the 
blankets Mr. Orr ran with it to a horse-trough in 
front, and plunged it into the water. 

As he returned Jack was drawing on a second pair 
of gauntlets. 

^^Jack, you're not going back!" said his father 
sharply. 

I want the key. Dad." 

“ Look there." Glancing within Jack saw that the 
whole rear of the store was now enveloped in flames. 

‘‘ And it would be of no use in any case. Look at 
this," said Mr. Orr, holding up the smoking relay. 

The instrument did indeed look a hopeless wreck 
as Jack took it. The base was cracked and charred, 
the rubber jacket about the magnet-coils was frizzled 
and warped, the fine wire connections beneath were 
gone, and the armature spring was missing. 

But Jack was not one to give up while a single hope 
remained. “ I could improvise a key," he said, and 
with decision hastily sought the hardware merchant. 

‘‘Mr. Wells, did you save any screw-drivers?" he 
asked. 

“ In a box down there. Help yourself." 

48 


A TINKER WHO MADE GOOD 


Running thither Jack found the tool, and immedi- 
ately began taking the relay apart. 

An exclamation of disappointment greeted the dis- 
covery that the fine copper wire within one of the 
coil- jackets had been melted into a solid mass. On 
ripping open the sizzled jacket of the other, however, 
Jack found the silk covering the wire to be only 
scorched, and determined to do the best he could with 
the one magnet. 

Removing the relay entirely from the burned base, 
he secured a thin piece of board from one of the boxes 
near him, from the miscellaneous tools in another box 
found a gimlet, and made the necessary perforations. 
And soon he had the brass coil-frame mounted. 

Meantime Mr. Orr, not for a moment thinking 
Jack could do anything with the charred instrument, 
had joined the crowd of men and women watching 
the burning building from across the street. 

‘^Father! Here, please!’’ called Jack. 

In some wonder Mr. Orr responded, and with him 
the hardware merchant. 

‘‘ Have you a rubber band in your pocket? ” asked 
Jack. “ I want it for the armature spring.” 

“ Why you are really not doing anything with it. 
Jack ! ” exclaimed his father. 

‘‘ Yes, sir. I think I can make it go,” responded 
Jack with a little touch of elation. And with only 
one magnet. But have you the rubber? ” 

Here,” said Mr. Wells, snapping a rubber band 
from his pocketbook. ‘‘ This do ? ” 

49 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


“ Just the thing. Thanks.’’ And while the two 
men looked on, Jack secured one end of the elastic to 
the little hook on the armature, and knotted the other 
about the tension thumb-screw. 

That done. Jack caught up a hammer and smashed 
the useless coil to pieces, from the wreck, secured sev- 
eral intact ends of the fine wire, and with them 
quickly restored the burnt connections between the 
magnet and the binding-posts. And with a cry, half 
of jubilation and half of nervous excitement, he 
caught up the now roughly-restored instrument and 
ran toward an iron gas street-lamp. In the roadway 
a short distance from the lamp-post lay the burned- 
oflf end of the telegraph wire. Placing the instrument 
on the sidewalk. Jack ran for the wire, and dragged 
it also to the post. 

Then, as the crowd, following his father and the 
hardware merchant, gathered about him, they saw him 
secure a piece of wire about the iron lamp-post, then 
to the instrument ; and, dropping to a sitting position, 
place the instrument on his knees, catch up the tele- 
graph line, and hold it to the other side of the re- 
lay. 

Jack’s low cry of disappointment was echoed by his 
father. No use. I was afraid of it, my boy,” said 
Mr. Orr resignedly. 

There was a disturbance on the outskirts of the 
crowd, and the mayor appeared pushing his way 
through. Did n’t you get that message off. Jack? ” 
he cried excitedly. 


50 


A TINKER WHO MADE GOOD 


The fire was too quick for us/’ said Mr. Orr. 

Jack risked his life getting out one of the instru- 
ments. But it has proved useless.” 

“Oh say! Now I know what’s the matter!” 
With the cry Jack sprang to his feet, broke through 
the circle about him, and sped back toward the store. 
The flames were now bursting from the front, but 
with head down he ran to the iron door covering the 
street entrance to the cellar, and lifted it. A thin 
stream of smoke arose, then disappeared as a draft 
toward the rear set in. With a thankful “ Good ! ” 
Jack leaped into the opening. 

His father, the mayor, and several others who had 
rushed after in consternation reached the sidewalk as 
Jack’s head reappeared, followed by a green battery 
jar. Placing the jar on the ledge, he stooped, and 
raised another. 

“What do you think you are doing?” cried his 
father. 

“ I ’ll e:xplain in a minute. Take them over to the 
post, please.” And Jack had again disappeared. 

The mayor promptly caught up the two cells, but 
Mr. Orr as promptly dropped through the opening 
and followed Jack. 

“ What are you trying to do ? ” he demanded as he 
groped his way to the battery-shelf. “ You can’t do 
anything with the battery if you have no instru- 
ment.” 

“ The instrument is all right. Father. The line has 
been ‘ grounded ’ south, that’s all. If we put battery 
51 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


on here, we can reach some office between here and 
wherever the ‘ ground ’ is on.” 

May it be so,” said Mr. Orr fervently, but not 
hopefully, as they hurried with four more jars to the 
entrance. 

When they had carried out a dozen jars Jack de- 
clared the number to be sufficient, and scrambling 
forth, they hastened back to the lamp-post. 

Without delay Jack connected the cells in proper 
series, and removing the wire between the instrument 
and the iron post, substituted the battery — zinc to 
the post, and copper to the instrument. 

Then once more he caught up the severed end of 
the main-line wire, and touched the opposite side of 
the instrument. 

A cry of triumph, then a mighty shout, greeted the 
responding click. 

‘‘ But what about a key, son? ” said Mr. Orr. 

“ This, for the moment,” replied Jack, and simply 
resting his elbow on his knee, and tapping with the 
end of the wire against the brass binding-post, he 
began urgently calling. 

‘‘HN, HN, HN!” he clicked. HN, HN, HV! 
Rush! Qk! HN, HN!” 

Perhaps the wire is grounded between here and 
Hammerton,” suggested his father breathlessly. 

Anybody answer! Qk! ” sent Jack. ‘‘ Does any- 
body hear this ? ” 

What *s the matter? This is Z.” 

“Got Zeisler!” shouted Jack. , 

52 


A TINKER WHO MADE GOOD 


The mayor stepped forward. ‘‘ Send them the 
message/' he directed, ‘‘ and have them 'phone it to 
Hammerton." 

Jack did so. And fifteen minutes later the cheer- 
ing news ran quickly about the threatened town that 
two steam fire-engines were starting by special train 
from Hammerton immediately, would pick up another 
at Zeisler, and would be on the scene within half an 
hour. All of which report proved true, the engines 
arriving on the dot — and by daylight the last of the 
several different fires were under control, and the 
safety of the town was assured. 

Needless to say. Jack's name played an important 
part in the dramatic newspaper accounts pf the con- 
flagration — nor to add that he was the envied hero 
of every other lad in town for weeks to come. 

The final and particular result of the affair, how- 
ever, was the offer to Jack of a good position in 
the large commercial telegraph office at Hammerton, 
which he at last induced his parents to permit him to 
accept. 


53 


IV 


THE OTHER TINKER ALSO MAKES GOOD 

O NE evening shortly after the beginning of the 
summer holidays Alex was chatting over the 
wire with Jack, who was now a full-fledged operator 
at Hammerton, when the despatching office abruptly 
broke in and called Bixton. 

I, I, BX,’’ answered Alex. 

‘‘Is young Ward there?” clicked the instruments. 
“ This is ‘ young Ward.’ ” 

“ Say, youngster, would you care to do a couple 
of weeks’ vacation relief at Hadley Corners, begin- 
ning next Monday? The man there wants to get off 
badly, and we have no one here we can send.” 

“ Most certainly I would,” replied Alex, promptly. 

“ OK then. We ’ll count on you. I ’ll send a pass 
down to-night,” said the despatcher. 

Thus it came about that the following Monday 
morning Alex alighted at the little crossing depot 
known as Hadley Corners, and for the second time 
found himself, if but temporarily, in full charge of a 
station. 

Entering the little telegraph room, he announced 
his arrival to the despatcher at “ X.” 

“ Good,” clicked the sounder. “ And now, look 


54 


THE OTHER TINKER ALSO MAKES GOOD 


here, Ward. Don^t do any tinkering with the instru- 
ments while you are there. We don’t want a repeti- 
tion of the mix-up you got the wire into at BX through 
your joking a month or so ago.” 

The joke referred to was a hoax Alex had played 
on his father the previous First of April. Through 
an arrangement of wires beneath the office table, by 
which with his foot, unseen, he could make the instru- 
ments above click as though worked from another of- 
fice, he had called his father to the wire, and posing 
as the despatcher, had severely reprimanded him for 
some imaginary mistake in a train order. It had been 
‘‘ all kinds of a lark,” until, unfortunately, the con- 
nections became disarranged, tying up the entire 
eastern end of the line for half an hour. 

At the recollection of the escapade Alex laughed 
heartily. Nevertheless he promptly replied, OK, 
sir. I won’t touch a thing.” And the despatcher say- 
ing nothing more, he began calling Bixton. 

‘‘I’m here. Dad,” he announced when his father 
answered ; “ and it ’s a fine little place. The woods 
come almost up to the back of the station, and the 
nearest house is a mile away. That ’s where I am to 
board. The other operator arranged it. It ’s going 
to be a regular little picnic.” 

“ That ’s nice,” ticked the sounder. “ I thought 
you would like it.” And then Alex again laughed as 
his father added, “ And now, no tinkering with things, 
my boy! Remember! ” 

“ OK, Dad. I won’t touch a thing. Good-by.” 

55 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


It was the following Monday that the all agents 
message was sent over the wire announcing an unusu- 
ally heavy shipment of gold from the Black Hill 
Mines, and warning station agents and operators to 
look out for and report any suspicious persons about 
their stations. But these messages, usually following 
hold-ups on other roads, had been intermittently sent 
for years, and nothing had happened on the Middle 
Western; and in his turn Alex gave his OK,’’ and 
thought nothing more about it. 

A half hour later he sat at the open window of the 
telegraph room, deeply interested in the July St. 
Nicholas — so interested, indeed, that he did not 
hear soft footfalls on the station platform without. 
The man came quietly nearer — reached the window. 
Then suddenly Alex glanced up, the magazine fell to 
the floor, and with a loud cry he sprang to his feet. 

He was gazing into the barrel of a revolver, and 
behind it was a black-masked face! 

Hold-up men ! The gold train 1 

Wildly Alex turned toward the telegraph-key. But 
the man leaned quickly forward, seized him by the 
shoulder, and threw him heavily back into the chair. 
‘‘You move again and I’ll shoot!” he said sharply, 
and Alex sank back helpless. 

Yes; hold-up men. And he had betrayed his trust. 
Betrayed his trust! That thought stood out even 
above his terror. Oh, if he had only kept a look- 
out! 

The man, who had said nothing further, presently 

56 


THE OTHER TINKER ALSO MAKES GOOD 


withdrew the revolver and took a comfortable seat on 
the window-ledge. As the silence continued, Alex 
began somewhat to recover himself, and fell to won- 
dering what the other bandits were doing while this 
man was watching him. 

A few moments later the answer came in a single 
upward click from the instruments. 

‘‘There — wires cut, ain’t they?” said his captor. 

“ Yes, I suppose,” said Alex, bitterly. 

“ They sure are,” said the voice from behind the 
mask. “ And when we get through, them wires ’ll be 
cut so you won’t be able to fix ’em up in a hurry.” 

Fifteen minutes later a second masked and heayily 
armed figure appeared. “ Every wire cut five poles 
back on either side of the station,” he announced 
briefly. “ It ’ll take a lineman half a day to fix ’em 
up again, and we ’ll be twenty miles away by that 
time. Now we ’ll put the hobbles on the youngster, 
and git.” 

Often Alex had longed for just such an adventure 
as this. The final disenchantment was anything but 
glorious. Roughly seizing him, the two men forced 
him stiffly upright in the chair, drew his arms about 
the back of it, and there secured them, wrist to wrist, 
drawing the knot until Alex almost cried out in pain. 
Then, as tightly, they bound his ankles to the lower 
rungs, one on either side. 

“ Now one of us is going to watch from the woods 
for a spell — we ’ll leave the back door open, so we 
can see right in — and if you make a move, you get 
59 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


this quick! See?’’ said one of the desperadoes, tap- 
ping his pistol significantly. 

Therewith they passed out, leaving the rear door 
wide open, and in utter misery of mind Alex watched 
them stride toward the trees. 

Before the two bandits had crossed the open space, 
however, Alex’s mind had cleared. For plainly they 
were hurrying! Then their promise to watch him 
must have been only a threat, to keep him quiet! 
Good! At once he began straining at his wrists, 
paused as the two men reached the edge of the clear- 
ing and momentarily turned, and as they disappeared 
amid the trees, began struggling with grim determina- 
tion. 

It seemed a hopeless task at first, and the rawhide 
thongs cut cruelly into Alex’s wrists and ankles. But 
bravely he struggled on, wriggled and twisted, paused 
for breath, and struggled again. And finally one hand 
came suddenly free. 

It required but a few seconds to get into his pocket, 
reach his knife, and open it with his teeth. A moment 
later Alex was on his feet, and staggered out onto 
the platform. 

Yes, the wires were cut, five poles in either direc- 
tion ! Alex clenched his hands. After all, what could 
he do? To restore the line was entirely out of the 
question. Had there been but one break he could not 
have climbed the pole and carried aloft that heavy 
stretch of wire. 

And there was less than twenty minutes in which 

60 


THE OTHER TINKER ALSO MAKES GOOD 


to work, to catch the Overland at Broken Gap. For 
undoubtedly it was beyond that point that the bandits 
planned holding her up — probably on one of the 
steep grades of the Little Timber hills. 

Suddenly Alex uttered a gasp of hope. A moment 
he debated, with nervously clasped hands, then, ex- 
haustion forgotten, dashed back into the little tele- 
graph room, found a screw-driver, and in a few min- 
utes had loosened from the table the telegraph-key 
and the receiving instrument. Catching them up, with 
some short ends of wire, he darted out and up the 
track to the west. 

Two hundred yards distant the intact end of the 
telegraph line drooped into the drainage ditch. Alex 
caught, it up and dragged it to the rails. Placing the 
key and relay on the end of a tie, he connected them 
on one side to the rail, and on the other side to the 
end of the line wire. 

But the responding click did not come. Alex 
groaned in disappointment. He had counted on the 
rails giving a ground ’’ connection. Then the line 
would have closed, and he could have worked it to 
the west. But apparently the hot weather had entirely 
dried out the sand beneath the rails, and thus insulated 
them. 

But he was not yet beaten. There was a ground 
wire at the station. Why could he not use the rails 
that far, if they were insulated? With a hurrah he 
seized the end of the line wire, and in a few moments 
had connected it to one of the rail joints. Then, catch- 
61 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

ing up the instruments, he dashed back for the sta- 
tion. 

Placing the instruments again on the table, he found 
a piece of loose wire that would reach from the instru- 
ments, out through the window, to the rails; ran out 
and quickly connected it to a rail joint, and, darting 
back, connected the other end to the instruments. In- 
stantly there was a sharp downward click. The line 
was closed! 

Alex could not suppress a quick Thank Heaven ! ” 
and, trembling with excitement, he seized the key and 
began swiftly calling the despatcher. X, X, X, 
HC,’’ he called. X, X — ’’ 

He felt the line open, and closed his own key. Then, 
in surprise, he read : So you have been monkeying 
with the wires there after all, have you? Now look 
here — ’’ 

Quickly Alex interrupted, and shot back: “Train 
robbers are after the Overland. They held me up, 
and cut the wires both sides of the station. I got 
free, and have made a connection through the rails 
— H C.’’ 

For a moment the line remained silent, while at his 
end of the wire the despatcher sat bolt upright in his 
chair, eyes and mouth wide open. But in another 
moment the despatcher had recovered himself, and, 
springing back to the key, began madly calling Broken 
Gap. 

“ B, B, B, X! ’’ he called. “ B, B, X! Qk! Qk! ” 

Alex shot a glance at the clock, and leaned forward 
62 


but the responding click did not come 


f: 










THE OTHER TINKER ALSO MAKES GOOD 


over the instruments, scarcely breathing. There was 
yet three minutes before the Overland was due at 
Broken Gap. But she did not stop there, and fre- 
quently passed ahead of time. If ‘‘ B ” did not answer 
the call immediately — 

The whir of ‘‘ B’s ” was interrupted, and slowly 
and deliberately came an I, I, B.’' Alex leaped in 
his chair, and again strained forward tensely. 

‘‘ Has 68 passed? hurled the despatcher. 

Just coming.’’ 

‘‘Stop her! Flag her! Qk! Qk!” 

The line opened, as though “ B ” was about to make 
a reply, then smartly closed again. 

“ Stop her! Stop her! ” repeated “ X.” 

There was a leaden, breathless silence, while Alex 
nervously clenched and unclenched his hands. At last 
the line again clicked open, and with a characteristic 
deliberation that caused the nerve-strung boy a mo- 
ment’s hysterical laugh, “ B ” announced : “ Just got 
her. She ’s slowing in now. What ’s up? ” 

The despatcher at “ X ” had regained his equilib- 
rium, and in his usual crisp manner he replied : “ Take 
this for Conductor Bedford: 

“ Bedford : Hold-up apparently planned between 
Broken Gap and Hadley Corners. Probably on one 
of the grades of the Little Timbers. Gather a posse 
quickly, and make sure of capturing them. Report at 
HC. 

“ (Signed) Jordan, X.’^ 

65 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

As B gave his ‘‘ OK ’’ with the stumbling hesi- 
tation of blank astonishment, the line again opened. 
And at the first word the intense strain broke, and 
Alex sank forward over the table with a convulsive 
sob. 

Grand, my boy ! Grand ! clicked the sounder. 
It was his father, at Bixton. He had overheard it all. 

‘‘ Grand ! That ’s the word,’’ came the despatcher. 

There ’s not another operator on the division who 
would have known enough to do what he did to-day. 
I guess we won’t bother him any more about his 
* tinkering,’ will we? ” 

Only half an hour late, the mighty mogul pulling 
the Overland Limited drew panting to a stop before 
the little station, and in a moment Alex was sur- 
rounded by a crowd of congratulating trainmen and 
passengers. And when he reappeared after sending 
the message which notified the despatcher of the 
train’s safe arrival and of the capture of the two ban- 
dits, he was surprised and speechlessly confused by 
having pressed upon him. by the enthusiastic passen- 
gers an impromptu purse of seventy-five dollars. 

Later in the afternoon Alex was called to the wire 
by Jack, at Hammerton. “ Say, what is all this you ’ve 
gone and done, Al?” clicked Jack enthusiastically. 

The afternoon papers here have a whole column 
story ! ^ Please attach statement at once ! ’ ” 

Oh, it looks much bigger than it really was,” re- 
sponded Alex modestly. ‘‘ And anyway, it came about 
66 


THE OTHER TINKER ALSO MAKES GOOD 

through my own carelessness. I ought to have been 
reprimanded, instead of patted on the back.” 

‘‘Nonsense! Those hold-up men would have got 
you, anyway. If you had seen them coming, they 
would simply have approached in a friendly way, then 
got the drop on you. You had no gun. 

“ But, say,” added Jack mock-seriously, “ how is it 
these real high class adventures always come your 
way? I ’m getting jealous.” 

“ I can assure you you need n’t be. It ’s lots more 
fun reading about them. Wait and see,” said Alex. 

Jack was soon to have his opportunity of “ seeing,” 
though a more disagreeable experience was first to 
come. 


67 


V 


AN ELECTRICAL DETECTIVE 

‘‘ RR, Mr. Black wants you.” 

V_^ Jack, who was passing through the business 
department of the Hammerton office, toward the stair 
which led to the operating room, promptly turned 
aside and entered the manager’s private room. 

‘‘ Good morning, Jack. Sit down. 

‘‘ My boy,” began the manager, ‘‘ can you keep a 
secret? ” 

Why yes, sir,” responded Jack, wondering. 

‘‘ Very well. But I must explain first. I suppose 
you did not know it — we kept it quiet — but the 
real reason Hansen, the janitor, was discharged a 
month ago was that he was found taking money from 
the safe here, which he had in some way learned to 
open. After he left I changed the safe combination, 
and thought the trouble was at an end. 

Last Tuesday morning the cash was again a little 
short. At the time I simply thought an error had 
been made in counting the night before. This morn- 
ing a second ten-dollar bill is missing, and the cash- 
box shows unmistakable signs of having been tam- 
pered with. 

“ Now Johnson, the counter clerk, to whom I had 
68 


AN ELECTRICAL DETECTIVE 


confided the new combination (for it is customary, 
you know, that two shall be able to open a safe, as 
a precaution against the combination being forgotten) 
— Johnson is entirely above suspicion. Still, to make 
doubly sure, I am going to alter the combination once 
more, and share it with someone outside of the busi- 
ness department. And as you have impressed me 
very favorably, I have chosen you. 

‘‘ That is, of course,'’ concluded the manager, ‘‘ if 
you have no objection." 

‘‘ Certainly not. I am sure I appreciate the confi- 
dence, sir," said Jack quickly. 

Very well, then. The combination is ^ Right 
twenty, twice; back nine; right ten.' Can you re- 
member that? For you must not write it down, you 
know." 

Jack repeated the number several times; and again 
thanking the manager for the compliment, continued 
up-stairs to the telegraph-room. 

Two mornings later Jack was again called into Mr. 
Black's office. For a moment, while Jack wondered, 
the manager eyed him strangely, then asked, What 
was that combination. Jack?" 

Right ninety — no, right thirty — Why, I believe 
I have forgotten it, sir," declared Jack in confusion. 

Perhaps you have forgotten this too, then? " As 
he spoke the manager took from his desk a. small note- 
book. I found it on the floor in front of the safe 
this morning." 

It is mine, sir. I must have dropped it last night, 
69 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


I worked extra until after midnight, sir,” explained 
Jack, “ and on the way out I chased a mouse in here 
from the stairway, and when it ran under the safe 
I dropped to my knees to find it. The book must have 
fallen from my pocket. 

But what is wrong, sir? ” 

The cash-box is not in the safe this morning.” 

Jack started back, the color fading from his cheeks 
as the significance of it all came to him. 

‘‘ And now you pretend to have the combination 
entirely wrong,” went on the manager. 

Jack found his voice. Mr. Black, you are mis- 
taken! You are mistaken! I never could do such 
a thing! Never!” 

I would prefer proof,” Mr. Black said coldly. 

Jack caught at the idea. Would you let me try 
to prove it, sir? Will you give me a week in which 
to try and clear myself? ” 

‘‘ Well, I did not mean it that way. But, all right 
— a week. And if things do not look different by 
that time, and you still claim ignorance, you will have 
to go. That is all there is to it.” 

‘‘ Thank you, sir.” 

At the door Jack turned back. “ Mr. Black, you 
are positive you returned the box to the safe ? ” 

Positive. It is the last thing I do before going 
home.” 

During spare moments on his wire that morning 
Jack debated the mystery from every side. Finally 
he had boiled it down to two conflicting facts : 

70 


AN ELECTRICAL DETECTIVE 


First : That the box was placed in the safe the 
night before, and in the morning was gone ; and that, 
besides the manager, he was the only one who could 
have opened the safe and taken it. And, 

“ Second : That, of course, he knew his own inno- 
cence.'’ 

The only alternative, then, was that Mr. Black had 
been mistaken in thinking he had returned the box 
to the safe. 

Grasping at this possibility. Jack argued on. How 
could the manager have been mistaken? Overlooked 
the box, say because of its being covered by some- 
thing? 

Why it may be there yet! " exclaimed Jack hope- 
fully. And a few minutes later, relieved from his 
wire for lunch, he hurriedly descended again to the 
manager's office. 

‘‘ Mr. Black, may I look around here a bit ? " he 
requested. 

“Look around? What for?" 

“ To see if I cannot find something to help solve 
this mystery," responded Jack, not wishing directly 
to suggest that the manager had overlooked the box. 

“ So you keep to it that you know nothing, eh ? 
Well, go ahead," said the manager shortly, turning 
back to his desk. 

Jack's hopes were quickly shattered. Neither on 
the desk, nor a table beside the safe, was there 
anything which could have concealed the missing 
box. 


71 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Stooping, he glanced under the table. Something 
white, a newspaper, leaning against the wall, caught 
his eye. With a flutter of hope he reached beneath 
and threw it aside. There was nothing behind it. 

Disappointedly he caught the newspaper up and 
tossed it into the waste-basket. Suddenly, on a 
thought, he recovered the paper, and opened it. On 
discovering it was the ‘‘ Bulletin,’’ a paper he knew 
Mr. Black seldom read, the idea took definite shape. 
And, yes, it was of yesterday’s date! 

Mr. Black,” exclaimed Jack, this is not your 
paper, is it ? ” 

Somewhat impatiently the manager glanced up. 
‘‘The ^Bulletin’? No.” 

“Were you reading it yesterday, sir?” 

“ Well, I don’t see what you are driving at — but, 
no. It was probably left here by Smith, one of the 
express clerks next door. He was in for a while yes- 
terday on some telegraph money-order business. Yes, 
he did have it in his hand, now I remember. But 
why? ” 

At the mention of Smith’s name Jack started, and 
there immediately came to him a remembrance of hav- 
ing a few days previously seen the express clerk on a 
street corner in earnest conversation with Hansen, the 
discharged janitor. 

In suppressed excitement he asked, “ When was 
Smith here, Mr. Black? What time?” 

The manager smiled sardonically, and turned back 
to his work. “No; you can’t fasten it on Smith,” 
72 


AN ELECTRICAL DETECTIVE 


he said shortly. ‘‘ It was after he went out that I 
returned the box to the safe. But, if it ’s any good 
to you — he was in here from about five-thirty to ten 
minutes to six, and was talking with one of the boys 
in the outer office when I left.’’ 

“ And Mr. Black, were you outside during the time 
Smith was in here? ” 

‘‘ No, I — Yes, I was, too. About a quarter to six 
I was over at the speaking-tube for a minute. 

But enough of this nonsense,” the manager added 
sharply. The box was in the safe when I closed it. 
Don’t bother me any further with your pretense of 
investigating. I don’t believe it is sincere.” 

Despite this cutting declaration Jack turned away 
with secret satisfaction. 

Just outside the office door he made a second dis- 
covery — a small one, but one which further strength- 
ened the theory he had formed. 

It was a small coal cinder and an ash stain in the 
shape of a heel, apparently overlooked by a careless 
sweeper. 

They could only have been left by a foot which came 
from the cellar! 

Promptly Jack turned toward the cellar door, and 
made his way down into the big basement. 

Going directly to one of the rear windows, he 
carefully examined it. The cobwebs and the dust on 
the sill had not been disturbed for months. 

He turned to the second, and instantly emitted a 
shrill whistle of delight. Its cobwebs had been torn 
73 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


and swept aside, and the ledge brushed almost clean. 
And evidently but a short time before, for the cleared 
space showed little of the dust which constantly fil- 
tered through the floor above. 

‘‘ Fine ! ’’ exclaimed Jack. Now I — ’’ He 
paused. The window was securely latched on the 
inside ! 

For several minutes Jack stood, disappointed and 
mystified. Then, examining the latch closely, he 
laughed, and grasping it with his fingers, easily pulled 
it out. It had been forced from the outside, and 
merely pressed back into the hole. 

But its being replaced showed that the intruder 
had not made his escape that way. 

Jack began an examination of the end of the cellar 
under the express office. And the exit was soon dis- 
closed. 

The dividing wall was of boarding, and at the outer 
end, to facilitate the examination of the gas metres 
of the two companies, was a narrow door. Ordinarily 
this door was secured on the telegraph company’s side 
by a strong bolt. 

The bolt was drawn, and the door swung easily to 
Jack’s touch ! 

On the farther side all was darkness, however, and 
Jack returned to the window. As he approached it 
something on the floor beneath caught his eye. It 
was a lead-pencil. He picked it up, and with a cry 
of triumph discovered stamped upon it the initials and 
miniature crest of the express company. And, more, 
74 


AN ELECTRICAL DETECTIVE 


a peculiar long-pointed sharpening promised the pos- 
sibility of fixing its actual owner. 

Filled with elation, and confident that it was now 
only a matter of time when he should clear himself, 
Jack hastened up-stairs, determined to pursue his in- 
vestigation next door, where he knew several of the 
younger clerks. 

Hello, Danny,’’ he said, entering the express of- 
fice, and addressing a sandy-haired boy of his own 
age. Say, who in here sharpens pencils like this? ” 

‘‘ Hello! That? Oh, I ’d know that whittle a mile 
ofif. We call ’em daggers — Smith’s daggers. Where 
did you get it?” 

Smith ! Who wants Smith ? ” 

Jack turned with a start. It was the clerk himself. 

Instantly Jack extended the pencil. Is this yours, 
Mr. Smith ? ” he asked, and held his breath. 

‘‘ Yes, it is. Where did you find — ” Suddenly 
the clerk turned upon Jack with a look of terror in 
his face. But in a moment he had recovered himself, 
and abruptly snatching the pencil from Jack’s hand, 
proceeded to his desk. 

Jack was jubilant. Nothing could have been more 
convincing of the clerk’s guilt. Following this feeling, 
however, came one of pity for the unfortunate man; 
and after a silent debate with himself. Jack followed 
him. 

Placing a hand on the clerk’s shoulder, he said in 
a low voice : 

‘‘ Mr. Smith, I have found out about that cash-box 

75 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


of ours. Now look here, why not confess the wretched 
business before it is too late, and — ’’ 

The clerk spun about. ‘‘Cash-box! Business! 
What do you refer to ? 

“Mr. Smith, it was you took our cash-box last 
night.’’ 

The clerk was colorless, but he only faltered an in- 
stant. “ What nonsense is this ? ” he demanded an- 
grily. “ I never heard of your cash-box. What do 
you mean by — ” 

“ Well then, I ’ll tell you just how you did it,” said 
Jack determinedly. “ While you were in Mr. Black’s 
office yesterday afternoon he stepped out and left you 
alone for a moment. The cash-box was on the table. 
You immediately saw the opportunity (perhaps Han- 
sen had done the same thing, and put you onto it?) — 
you saw the opportunity, and threw over the box a 
newspaper you had in your hand. As you had hoped, 
not seeing the box, Mr. Black forgot it, and left at 
six o’clock without returning it to the safe. You made 
sure of that by remaining about the outer office until 
he left. And then, after midnight you came down to 
the office here, forced an entrance into our cellar, and 
went up-stairs and secured the box. ^ 

“ I ’m sorry — but is n’t that so ? ” 

The clerk laughed drily. “ The great Mr. Sherlock 
Holmes, junior!” he remarked sarcastically. “Rub- 
bish. Run away and don’t bother me with your silly 
detective theories,” and turned back to his desk. 

Jack stood, baffled and surprised. 

76 


THE CLERK WAS COLORLESS, BUT ONLY FALTERED AN JNSJANT 













AN ELECTRICAL DETECTIVE 

‘‘ Look here, Orr ! ’’ As Smith again spun about 
a hard look came into his face. ‘‘ Look here, how do 
you come to know so much about this business, your- 
self? Eh?’’ 

Jack uttered an exclamation, and a sudden fear of 
the clerk came over him. Was Smith thinking of 
trying to place the blame upon him? 

However, further discussion was clearly useless, 
and he turned away. 

The following morning brought quick proof that 
Jack’s suddenly inspired fear of Smith was too well 
founded. As he entered the telegraph office Mr. 
Black called him and handed him a note. ‘‘ Now what 
have you to say? ” he demanded solemnly. 

In a lead-pencil scrawl Jack read: 

“ Mr. Black: Your yung operatur Orr can tell you 
sumthin about thet cash box, he was showin the key 
of the box to sumone yesteday and i saw him. Mebee 
you will finde the key in his offis cote. 

‘‘ Yours, a frend.” 

It is the key,” said the manager, producing a 
small key on a ring. I recall having left it in the 
lock.” 

Jack stood pale and speechless. Despite the dis- 
guised writing and poor spelling, the letter was from 
Smith, he had not a doubt. But how could he prove 
it? Truly matters were beginning to look serious for 
him. 


79 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Quickly, however, Jack’s natural spirit of fight-to- 
the-end returned to him, and handing the letter back, 
he said, respectfully but determinedly, ‘‘ Mr. Black, I 
still hold you to your promise to give me a week in 
which to prove my innocence. And I ’ll prove, too, 
sir, that this key was placed in my pocket by someone 
else, probably by the one who really took the box. I 
believe I know who it is, but I ’ll prove it first.” 

Reluctantly the manager consented, for he now 
firmly believed at least in Jack’s complicity; and leav- 
ing him. Jack sought the operating-room, to spend 
every spare moment in turning the matter over in his 
mind. 

What next could he do ? If only he could find the 
box! What would Smith probably have done with 
it? For it seemed unlikely he would have taken it 
away with him. Might he not, after removing the 
money, have hidden it in the cellar? Jack determined 
to search there ; and accordingly, at noon, hastening 
through his lunch, he descended and began a system- 
atic hunt amid the odds and ends filling the basement. 

The first noon-hour’s search brought no result. 
The second day, returning to the task somewhat 
dispiritedly. Jack began overhauling a pile of old 
cross-pieces. There was a squeak, and a rat shot out. 

In a moment Jack was in hot pursuit with a stick. 
The rat ran toward the old furnace, and disappeared. 
At the spot an instant after. Jack found a hole in the 
brick foundation, and thrust the stick into it. The 
stick caught, he pulled, and several bricks fell out. 

80 


AN ELECTRICAL DETECTIVE 


Dropping to his knees, Jack peered into the opening. 
A cry broke from him, and thrusting in a hand he 
grasped something, and drew it forth. 

It was the lost cash-box! 

Uttering a shout of triumph. Jack leaped to his feet 
and started on a run for the stair. But suddenly he 
halted. After all, was he absolutely sure it was Smith 
who had placed it there? Would the producing of 
the box prove it? 

The question, which had not before occurred to 
Jack, startled him. 

As he stood thinking, half consciously he tried the 
cover of the box. To his surprise it gave. He opened 
it. And the box almost fell from his hands. 

It still contained the money! And apparently un- 
touched ! 

But in a moment Jack thought he understood. 
Smith, or whoever it was, had left it as a clever means 
of saving themselves from the worst in the event of 
being found out, intending to return for it if the ex- 
citement blew safely over. 

Then why not wait and catch them at it? 

Good. But how ? 

Jack’s inventive genius soon furnished the answer. 

That ’s it ! Great ! ” he said to himself delightedly. 

I ’ll get down and do it early in the morning. And 
now I ’ll stick this back in the hole and fix the bricks 
up again.” 

Seven o’clock the following morning found Jack 
carrying out his plan. First conveying to the cellar 
81 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


from the battery room two gravity- jars, he placed 
them in a dark corner behind the furnace. Next, find- 
ing an old lightning-arrester, he opened up the hiding- 
place, and arranged the arrester beneath the cash-box 
in such a way that on the box being moved the arrester 
arm would be released, fly back, and make a contact. 
Then, having carefully closed the opening, he procured 
some fine insulated wire, and proceeded to make up 
his circuit : From the arrester, out beneath the bricks, 
around the furnace, to the battery; up the wall, and 
through the flqor by the steam-pipes into the business 
office; and, running up-stairs and procuring a step- 
ladder, on up the office wall, through the next floor, 
into the operating room. And there a few minutes 
later he had connected the wires to a call-bell on a 
ledge immediately behind the table at which he worked. 
And the alarm was complete. 

Although Jack knew that the clerk next door re- 
turned from his dinner a half hour earlier than the 
others in the express office, he had little expectation 
of Smith visiting the cash-box at that time. Never- 
theless, as the noon-hour drew near he found himself 
watching the alarm-bell with growing excitement. 

There might be just a chance of Smith visiting 
the box,” he told himself, just to learn whether I 
had — ” 

From behind him came a sharp zip, zip,” then a 
whirr. With a bound Jack was on his feet and rush- 
ing for the door. Down the stairs he went, three 
steps at a time, and into the manager’s private office. 

82 



SAID JACK, POINTING IN TRIUMPH 



AN ELECTRICAL DETECTIVE 


Mr. Black/’ he cried, I Ve got the man who 
took the box ! Down the cellar ! Quick ! 

‘‘ I found the box, with the money still in it, and 
fixed up an alarm-bell circuit to go off when he came 
for it,” he explained hurriedly, as the manager stared. 
In a moment Mr. Black was on his feet and hastening 
after Jack toward the cellar stairway. 

Quietly they tiptoed down. They reached the bot- 
tom. 

There!” Jack said, pointing in triumph. And 
looking, the manager beheld Smith, the express clerk, 
on his knees beside the furnace, before him on the 
floor the missing cash-box. 

Ten minutes later the manager of the express com- 
pany, who had been called in, passed out of Mr. 
Black’s office with his clerk in charge, and the tele- 
graph manager, turning to Jack, warmly shook his 
hand. 

I am more sorry than I can say to have placed the 
blame upon you, my boy,” he said sincerely. “ And I 
am very thankful for the clever way you cleared the 
mystery up. 

You are quite a detective — sort of ^ electrical 
detective ’ — are n’t you? ” he added, smiling. 

And for some time, about the office, and even over 
the wires. Jack went by that name — the Electrical 
Detective.” 


85 


VI 


JACK HAS HIS ADVENTURE 

O NE afternoon a few days following the affair 
of the missing cash-box Manager Black ap- 
peared in the Hammerton operating room, and after 
a consultation with the chief operator, called Jack 
Orr from his wire. 

‘‘ Jack,'’ said the manager, there have been some 
important developments in the big will case on trial 
out at Oakton, and the ^ Daily Star ’ has asked for 
a fast operator to send in their story to-night. The 
chief tells me you have developed into a rapid sender. 
Would you care to go? " 

I 'd be glad of the opportunity, sir," said Jack, 
delightedly. 

All right. The chief will let you off now, so you 
will have plenty of time to catch the seven o’clock train. 
And now. Jack, do your best, for the ‘ Morning Bul- 
letin ’ is sending its news matter in by the other tele- 
graph company, and we don’t want them to get ahead 
of us in any way.’’ 

When Jack reached the station, several of the news- 
paper men, including West of the Star,’’ already 
were there. Among them he saw Raub, a reporter 
86 


JACK HAS HIS ADVENTURE 

of the Bulletin/’ and with him Simpson, an operator 
of the opposition telegraph company. 

“ Why, hello, kid! ” said the latter on seeing Jack. 
‘‘ They are not sending you out to Oakton, are 
they?” 

They are,” responded Jack, with pride. Simpson 
laughed, and, somewhat indignant. Jack passed on 
down the platform. On turning back, he noticed 
Simpson and Raub apart, talking earnestly. As he 
again neared them, both glanced toward him, and ab- 
ruptly the conversation ceased. At once Jack’s sus- 
picions were aroused, for he knew Raub had the name 
of being very unscrupulous in news-getting matters, 
and that Simpson was not much better. He deter- 
mined to watch them. 

But nothing further attracted his attention, and 
finally, the train arriving, they boarded it, and made 
a quick run of the ten miles to the little village. There 
Jack headed for the local telegraph office. 

He found it a tiny affair, in a small coal office on 
the southern outskirts of the village. Introducing 
himself to the elderly lady operator, who was just 
leaving, he went to the key and announced his arrival 
to the chief at Hammerton. 

It was an hour later when West, the Star ” re- 
porter, appeared. “ Here you are, youngster,” said 
he ; “a thousand words for a starter. It ’s going to 
be a great story. I ’ll be back in half an hour with 
another batch.” 

Promptly Jack called “ H,” and soon was clicking 

87 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


away in full swing. But suddenly the instruments 
ceased to respond. The wire had opened.’’ Jack 
tested with his earth connection, and finding the open- 
ing was to the south, waited, thinking the receiving 
operator at Hammerton had opened his key. But 
minute after minute passed, and finally becoming anx- 
ious, he cut off the southern end and began calling 
‘‘ B,” the terminal office to the north. 

I, I,” said B. 

' Get H on another wire and ask him what is wrong 
here,” Jack sent quickly. We are being held up on 
some very important stuff.” 

‘‘ H says it is open north of him,” announced B, 
returning. We are putting in a set of repeaters here, 
so you can reach him this way.” 

A moment later Jack heard Hammerton calling 
him from the north, and in another moment he was 
again sending rapidly. 

But scarcely had Jack sent a hundred words when* 
this wire also suddenly failed. When several minutes 
again passed and no further sound came, Jack leaned 
back in despair. Suddenly he sat upright. Raub and 
Simpson ! Was it possible this was their work? Was 
it possible they had cut the wires ? - 

Quickly he made a test which would show whether 
the breaks were near him. Adjusting the relay-mag- 
nets near the armature, he clicked the key. There 
was not the faintest response. Switching the instru- 
ments to the southern end o? the wire, he repeated the 
test, with the same result. 

88 


JACK HAS HIS ADVENTURE 

On both ends the break was within a short distance 
of him. Undoubtedly the wires had been cut ! 

Jack sprang to his feet and seized his hat. I ’ll 
find that southern break if I have to walk half-way to 
Hammerton,” he said determinedly, and leaving the 
office, set off down the moonlit road, his eyes fixed 
on the wire overhead. 

Scarcely a mile distant Jack uttered an exclamation, 
and, running forward, caught up the severed end of 
the telegraph line. 

A moment’s examination of the wire showed it had 
been cut through with a sharp file. 

Yes; undoubtedly it was the work of Raub and 
Simpson, in an effort to keep the news from the 
“ Star,” and score a ‘‘ beat ” for the opposition tele- 
graph company and the “ Morning Bulletin.” 

But you have n’t done it yet,” said Jack grimly, 
turning to look about him. How could he overcome 
the break in the wire? As the cut had been made 
close to the glass insulator on the cross-arm, only one 
of the two ends hung to the ground, and he saw that 
he could not splice them. And in any case he could 
not climb the pole and take that heavy stretch of wire 
with him. 

His eyes fell on a barb-wire fence bordering the 
road, and like an inspiration Alex Ward’s feat with 
the rails at Hadley Corners occurred to him. Could 
he not do the same thing with one of the fence wires ? 
Connect this end of the telegraph line (and fortunately 
it was the Hammerton end), say to the upper strand, 
89 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


then run back to the office and string a wire from the 
fence in to the instruments? 

To think was to act. Dragging the telegraph wire 
to the fence, Jack looped it over the topmost strand 
near one of the posts, and wound it about several 
times, to ensure a good contact. Then on the run he 
started back for the telegraph office. 

As he neared the little building Jack saw a figure 
within. Thinking the ‘‘ Star ’’ reporter had returned 
with further copy, he quickened his steps. At the 
doorway he halted in consternation. Instead of the 
reporter were two desperate-looking characters, and 
on the table beside them a half-emptied bottle and a 
large revolver. 

Jack hesitated a moment, then stepped inside. 
‘‘ What are you men doing here? he demanded. 

Oh, hello, kiddo ! We are the new operators,’’ 
said one of them with tipsy humor. You ’re dis- 
charged, see? And you git, too!” he suddenly 
shouted, catching up the pistol. And promptly Jack 
got.” A few yards distant, however, he halted. 
Now what was he to do? 

‘'Oh here you are, eh? Where have you been?” 
It was West, the “ Star ” man, and'he spoke angrily. 
“ I was here ten minutes ago, and found the office 
empty, and if the other company could have han- 
dled my stuff yours would have lost it. I ’ve just 
been — ” 

Interrupting, Jack hastily explained, telling of the 
severed wire, and his plan to bridge the break. The 
90 


JACK HAS HIS ADVENTURE 

reporter uttered an indignant exclamation. “ It ’s 
Raub’s work, sure as you ’re born,” he said hotly. 

But say, youngster, we can’t permit ourselves to 
be beaten this way. Can’t we do something? ” 

‘‘We might get some help, and drive the roughs 
out,”, suggested Jack. 

“No; we have n’t time. And then they might put 
up a drunken fight and shoot somebody. Come, think 
of something else. You surely can get over this new 
difficulty, after your clever idea for getting around 
the cut in the wire.” 

“ I don’t know,” replied Jack doubtfully, glancing 
toward the office window. “ If there was any way of 
getting the instruments — ” 

“ What could you do with them? ” 

“ We could turn the barn there into an office. I ’d 
run connections out through the back to the fence. 
It ’s just behind.” 

“ Say — I ’ve an idea then ! If it would n’t take you 
long to remove the instruments from the table? ” 

“ Only a couple of minutes.” 

“ Come on,” said West. Leading the way back 
toward the office, he explained, “ I ’ll get these beg- 
gars out, you hide round the corner, and soon as the 
way is clear rush in and get your instruments, and 
duck for the barn. I ’ll join you later.” 

“ How are you going to get them out? ” whispered 
Jack. 

“ Watch,” said the reporter. 

As Jack drew out of sight about the rear of the 
91 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

building his mystification was added to when he saw 
West pause before the door, stoop and pick up a hand- 
ful of gravel.. But immediately the reporter entered 
the doorway and spoke his purpose was explained. 

“ Hello, you two big rummies,” he said in his most 
offensive tones. “What are you doing here?” 

The two men were in a momentarily genial mood, 
however, and missed the insult. “ Why, hello pard, 
ol’ man,” responded one of them cordially. “ Come 
in an’ make ’self t’ home. Wanta buy a telegraph 
office ? Cheap ? ” 

“ Cheap ! You are the cheapest article I see here,” 
replied West, yet more insultingly. “ What do you 
mean by sitting down in respectable chairs? You 
ought to be tied up in a cow-stable. That ’s where 
you belong.” 

There was an angry growl as the two men scram- 
bled to their feet, and peering about the corner Jack 
saw West back into the door. 

“ Come on out, you big, overgrown cowards,” 
shouted the reporter. “ I ’ll thrash the both of you, 
with one hand tied behind me! 

“ And take that ! ” 

With his last words West suddenly threw the gravel 
full in the faces of the now enraged men, and spin- 
ning about, raced off down the road. They stumbled 
forth, shouting with rage, and one of them fired. 
The bullet went yards wide, and West ran on. With- 
out further wait Jack darted into the office, in a few 
minutes had the relay and key from the table, secured 
92 

















y*'ii;uv 


I* 

>"«<» 


LOOPED IT OVER THE TOPMOST STRAND, NEAR ONE OF THE POSTS. 




JACK HAS HiIS ADVENTURE 

some spare ends of wire for connections, and sped for 
the barn. 

There all was darkness. Entering, a search with 
matches soon produced a lantern, however. Lighting 
it. Jack stepped without to discover whether its glim- 
mer could be seen from the direction of the office. As 
he closed the door West appeared, panting and laugh- 
ing. 

Well, what do you think of that stunt, young- 
ster? ’’ he chuckled. Did you get the instruments? ’’ 

Yes. I was out here to learn whether the light of 
a lantern I found could be seen.’’ 

Good head! No; it does n’t show. 

And come on ! Here the beggars are again ! ” 
West led the way inside, and closed the door behind 
them. 

Now what, my boy? ” 

A table first. Here, the very thing,” said Jack, 
making towards a long feed-box at the rear of the 
barn. 

As they cleared its top of a pile of harness West 
asked, ‘‘Just what is the scheme here, youngster? I 
don’t think I understand it.” 

“ Oh, simple enough. I ’ll just run the wires out 
through that knot-hole, and connect one to the fence 
and the other to the ground.” 

“ Simple ! It looks different to me,” declared the 
reporter admiringly. “ All right, go ahead. I ’ll get 
down on this box and grind out the rest of my story.” 

Already Jack was at work sorting over the odd 
95 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


pieces of wire he had brought. Finding two suitable 
lengths, and straightening them out, he quickly con- 
nected them to the instruments, placed the instruments 
in a convenient position on the top of the box, and 
thrust the wire ends through the knot-hole. Then, 
hastening outside to the rear of the barn, he proceeded 
to connect one of them to the same strand of the fence 
wire to which the telegraph line was secured a mile 
distant. The other he drove deep into the damp earth 
beneath the edge of the building. And, theoretically, 
.the circuit was complete. 

Hurriedly he reentered the barn to learn the result. 

Well? ’’ said West anxiously. 

There is current, but it 's too weak.’’ Jack’s voice 
quavered with his disappointment. I suppose the 
rusty splices of that old fence offer too much resist- 
ance. 

‘‘ But I ’m not beaten yet,” he exclaimed, suddenly 
recovering his determination. Turning from the box, 
he began pacing up and down the floor. I ’ll figure 
it out somehow if I — oh ! ” With the cry Jack darted 
for the door, out, and toward the office. 

The intoxicated roughs were again in possession. 
Quietly he made his way to a dark window adjoining 
the lighted window of the operating room — the 
window of a little store-room, where, the local operator 
had told him, the batteries were located. 

The window was unlocked, and with little difficulty 
he succeeded in raising it. Cautiously he climbed 
within, and feeling about, found the row of glass jars. 
96 


JACK HAS HIS ADVENTURE 

Quickly disconnecting two of them, he carried them 
to the window-sill, clambered out, and hastened with 
them to the barn. 

^‘Now IVe got it, Mr. West!’’ he cried. ‘‘I’ll 
have H again in fifteen minutes ! ” 

West started to his feet. “ Can’t I help you? ” 

■ “ All right. Come on,” said Jack. And ten min- 
utes later, working like beavers, they had transferred 
to the barn the entire office battery of twenty cells. 

In nervous haste Jack connected the cells in series, 
then to the wire. Instantly the instrument closed with 
a solid click. 

“Hurrah! We win! We win!” cried West, and 
Jack, springing to the key, whirled off a succession of 
H’s. “ H, H, H, ON ! Rush ! H, H — ” 

“ I, I, H ! Where have you been ? What ’s the 
matter ? ” It was the chief, and the words came 
sharply and angrily. 

“ The wire was cut both sides of the village,” shot 
back Jack. “ I think it was Raub and Simpson’s work. 
And two roughs chased me out of the office with a 
revolver. Hired by them, I suppose. I ’ve fixed up 
an office in the barn, and am sending for a mile 
through a wire fence, to bridge the cut. Orr.'’^ 

For a moment the chief was too Amazed to reply. 
Then rapidly he said : “ Orr, you are a trump ! But 
come ahead with that report now. And make the 
best time you ever made in your life. I ’ll copy you 
myself.” 

And there, in a corner of the big barn, by the dim 

97 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


light of the lantern, and to the strange accompaniment 
of munching cattle and restlessly stamping horses. 
West wrote as though his life depended upon it, and 
Jack sent as he had never sent before. And exactly 
an hour later the young operator sent 30 ’’ (the 
end) to one of the speediest feats of press work on 
that year’s records of the Hammerton office. 

Though it was 3 a. m. when Jack got back to Ham- 
merton, he found the chief operator at the station to 
meet him. ‘‘ I had to come down, to congratulate 
you,” said the chief. That was one of the brightest 
bits of work all-round that I Ve heard of for years.” 

But did we beat them? ” asked Jack. 

‘‘We assuredly did. For didn’t you know? 
Those two roughs later went up and cleaned out the 
other office — the very men who had hired them to 
disable us ! And what with having had a slow- work- 
ing wire previously, the ‘ Bulletin ’ did n’t get in more 
than five hundred words. We gave the ‘ Star ’ over 
three solid columns.” 

The manager’s congratulation the following morn- 
ing was as enthusiastic as that of the chief. “ And 
as a practical appreciation, Jack,” he added, “ we are 
going to give you a full month’s vacation, with salary. 
We think you earned it.” 

When Jack returned to his wire one of the first 
remarks he heard was from Alex Ward, at Bixton. 

“ Well, old boy,” clicked Alex, “ your adventure 
came, did n’t it. And it has me beaten to a standstill.” 

“ Nonsense. It was your stunt at Hadley Corners 
98 


THERE, IN THE CORNER OF THE BIG BARN, JACK SENT AS HE HAD 

NEVER SENT BEFORE. 



V i 





a 


JACK HAS HIS ADVENTURE 

that suggested the trick that got me out of it,” de- 
clared Jack. “ But say, the manager has given me 
a month's vacation. What do you think of that?” 

‘‘ He did ! Look here,” sent Alex quickly, come 
to Bixton and spend some of it with me. I 'll promise 
you all kinds of a good time. Though I am not sure 
I can guarantee anything as exciting as last night's 
work,” he added. 

Jack readily accepted the invitation. And, as it 
turned out, Alex might as well have made his promise. 
He could have kept it. 


101 


VII 


A RACE THROUGH THE FLAMES 

T he fall had been an exceptionally dry one in that 
section of the middle west, and in consequence 
several forest fires had occurred, several not far from 
Bixton. Thus, when a few mornings following Jack’s 
arrival he and Alex proposed a visit to the old house 
in the woods where Alex had had his thrilling expe- 
rience with the foreign trackmen, Mrs. Ward ob- 
jected. 

You know there was a fire but five miles west 
yesterday, Alex,” she said. 

But that was only in the grass along the track. 
Mother, and the section-men soon had it out. They 
are watching everywhere. And on the first sign of 
smoke we will light for home like good fellows — 
won’t we. Jack?” he promised. Somewhat reluc- 
tantly Mrs. Ward finally consented, and gave the boys 
a lunch, and they set oflf to make a day of it. 

Paying a visit first to the abandoned brick-yard, it 
was noon when Jack and Alex emerged from the 
woods at the rear of the deserted old cabin. 

So that ’s it! ” exclaimed Jack with keen interest 
as they went forward. “ And up there is the very 
door you dropped from, I suppose?” 

102 


A RACE THROUGH THE FLAMES 


Yes, that is it. Still half open, too — just as I 
left it. And over there is the barn and cow-stable. 
But let us have lunch first, and I 'll explain everything 
afterward," Alex said, leading the way toward the 
house. ‘‘ I am as hollow as a bass-drum." 

Ten minutes later, sitting on the cabin floor just 
within the doorway, eating and chatting, the two boys 
became suddenly silent, and sniffed at the air. With 
an exclamation both leaped to their feet, and to the 
door. 

Rolling from the trees at the southern border of 
the clearing was a white bank of smoke. The woods 
were on fire ! 

“Which way?" cried Tack, as they sprang forth. 
“ The railroad?" 

Alex darted to the corner of the house and glanced 
about. “No! The wind has swung to the southwest! 
We 'd never make it! North, for the brick-yard! 
Come on ! 

“ If we are cornered there, we can swim the river," 
he explained as they ran. “ The fire is n't likely to 
cross the water." 

They reached the trees, and immediately found 
themselves in a madly frightened procession. At their 
feet scurried rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks. A fox 
flashed by within a yard of them. Overhead, birds 
screamed and called in terror. 

On they dashed, and a ghostly yellow light began 
to envelop them. “ The smoke overhead," said Alex. 
“ It will soon be down here, too." 

103 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


‘‘ I smell it/’ panted Jack a moment later. Soon 
they began to feel it in their eyes. 

Jack began to lag. ‘‘How much farther, Alex?” 
he gasped. 

“ Only a short distance, now. Yes, here we are,” 
announced Alex, as brighter light appeared ahead of 
them. A moment after they broke into the clearing. 

Without slackening pace Alex headed for the old 
semaphore. “ From up there we can see just how we 
stand,” he explained. Almost exhausted, they 
reached it, and Alex ran up the ladder. Scrambling 
onto the little platform, he turned toward the river, 
two hundred yards distant. A cry broke from him. 

“We are cut off! The fire has crossed the 

river! ” 

Jack hastily clambered up beside him, and above 
the tree-tops beyond the river he beheld a gray-white 
cloud. 

The boys gazed at one another with paling faces. 
“ What shall we do? ” asked Jack. 

Alex shook his head. “ We might swim the river, 
and try a dash for it. It is two miles out of the woods, 
but there might be a chance.” 

“ We could n’t do it. We ’re too nearly exhausted. 

“ How about staying right in the river, by the 
bank?” Jack suggested. “I’ve heard of people do- 
ing that.” 

“ It is too deep here, and it ’s awfully cold. We 
would chill and cramp in no time. 

“ No; I tell you,” went on Alex suddenly. “ We ’ll 
104 


A RACE THROUGH THE FLAMES 


try one of the old tile ovens on the other side of the 
yard. Perhaps we can box ourselves up in one of 
them.’’ 

There was no time to lose, for the clearing was now 
blue with smoke, and climbing hastily to the ground, 
the boys were again off on the run. They reached the 
group of round-topped ovens. 

A glance showed that their hope was futile. All 
about the furnaces were thickets of dead weeds, and 
a short distance away, and directly to windward, was 
a huge pile of light brushwood. 

Promptly Alex turned back. We would be 
smothered or roasted in five minutes,” he declared. 

No. It is the water, or nothing. Perhaps we can 
work it by floating on a log.” 

As they approached the river, the boys crossed the 
old yard siding. Stumbling over the rails, partially 
blinded with the now stinging smoke, both suddenly 
ran into something, and fell in a heap. Scrambling 
to their feet, they found an old push-car, with low 
sides. 

Alex uttered a cry. ‘‘ Jack, why can’t we make a 
dash down the spur with this old car — pushing it? 
And say, could n’t we lift it onto the main-line rails, 
and run all the way home?” 

Jack hesitated. ‘‘ Look there,” he said, pointing to 
the wall of smoke into which the track disappeared a 
hundred yards away. And would n’t there be 
burned-down trees across the rails?” 

No; not yet. The fire has n’t been burning long 
105 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


enough. And as to the smoke, it ’ll soon be just as 
bad on the river,” Alex declared. 

“ All right. Let us try it. But first, let us jump 
in the river and get good and wet,” suggested Jack. 

‘‘ Good idea ! Come on ! 

‘‘ Or, wait ! ” exclaimed Alex. “ Another idea. 
There is an old rubbish pile just over here, and a lot 
of tin cans. Let us get some, and fill them with water 
— to keep our handkerchiefs wet, to breathe through.” 

They turned aside, quickly found and secured several 
empty cans each, and ran on. Reaching the water, 
they dropped the cans on the bank, and plunged in 
bodily. 

As Alex had said, the water was intensely cold, and 
despite the relief to their eyes from the smoke, they 
clambered out again immediately, hastily filled the 
tins, and only pausing to tie their dripping handker- 
chiefs over their mouths, dashed back for the siding. 

You help me start her. Jack,” directed Alex as 
they placed the cans of water in the forward end of 
the car, ‘‘ and when we reach the edge of the - woods, 
jump in. I ’ll run it the first spell, then you tran re- 
lieve me. That way we can keep it going at a good 
clip. 

^'All ready? Let her go!” With bowed heads 
they threw themselves against the little car, the rusty 
wheels began to screech; rapidly they gained head- 
way, and soon were on the run. 

They neared the smoke-hidden border of the clear- 
ing. 


106 



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*V. 





% 










WITH A RUSH THEY DASHED INTO THE WALL OF SMOKE 




A RACE THROUGH THE FLAMES 


‘‘Jump in, Jack!’’ cried Alex. Jack sprang over 
the tail-board and threw himself flat on his face, 
and with a rush they dashed into the wall of 
smoke. 

Rumbling and screeching, the car sped onward. 
Alex began to feel the heat. Suddenly it swept over 
them like the breath of a furnace, and there came a 
mighty roar. 

They were in the midst of the flames. 

“ Are you all right, Alex? ” cried Jack. 

“ Yes.” A moment later, however, Alex too sprang 
into the car, as he did so tearing ofif his handkerchief 
and stuffing it into one of the water-cans. “ I could n’t 
have held on another minute,” he choked. “ I believe 
the handkerchief was burning.” 

Jack prepared to climb out to take Alex’s place. 

“ No! Lay still! ” interposed Alex. “ The car will 
run by itself here. There ’s a down grade.” 

Jack dropped back thankfully. “ Is n’t it awful,” 
he gasped. “ My eyes are paining as though they 
would burst.” 

On rushed the car down the roaring, crackling tun- 
nel of flames, groaning and screeching like a mad 
thing. Tongues of fire began to lick over the sides 
of the car at the cringing boys within. 

Faster the car went. Presently it began to rock. 
“ She ’ll be off the track! ” cried Jack at last. 

“ Lie farther over ! ” directed Alex above the roar, 
himself moving in the opposite direction. The rear- 
rangement steadied the car slightly, but still it rocked 
109 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


and plunged on the long unused track so that at times 
the boys’ hearts leaped into their throats. 

The heat was now terrific. The floor and sides of 
the car began to blister and crack. 

“We can’t stand it much longer! We’ll be 
cooked! ” coughed Jack. 

“ Empty one of the cans over your head,” Alex 
shouted. “ Keep up a few minutes longer, and we will 
be over the worst. It is the leaves and brush that are 
making the heat, and we ’ll soon be where they have 
burned out. 

“ I think we are over the worst of it now,” he an- 
nounced a moment later. “ There ’s not so much 
crackling; and I don’t think it is so hot.” 

Simultaneously the car began to leap less wildly, 
then perceptibly to slow up. Alex at once prepared 
to climb out again. “ I ’ll give her another run,” he 
said. But promptly Jack pressed him back. “No you 
don’t! I ’m going to take my turn.” And in another 
moment he was out in the full glare of the still shrivel- 
ling heat, rushing the car on at the top of his speed. 
A hundred yards he drove it, and scrambled back 
within, gasping for breath. Emptying one of the re- 
maining cans over Jack’s head, Alex sprang out and 
took his place. 

A moment after, they struck a slight up grade. 
Alex uttered a joyful shout. “ Only a short run far- 
ther, Jack, and we’re out of the woods! ” 

But immediately he followed this glad announce- 
ment with one of new alarm. 

110 


A RACE THROUGH THE FLAMES 


The washout ! I ’d forgotten it ! It ’s just ahead ! 
The rails there almost hang in the air ! ’’ 

In a panic Alex slowed up. Jack climbed out beside 
him. Let us rush it/’ he suggested. ‘‘ The rails 
may hold — like a bridge. We ’re not heavy. And 
we may as well take one more chance.” 

Alex debated. ‘‘ All right! Come on! And jump 
quick when I say! I think I can tell when we are 
near it.” 

Once more the car was flying onward through the 
haze. 

Here we come ! Now! ” 

With a bound Jack was back in the car. Alex made 
a final rush, and sprang after. The car dipped for- 
ward and sideways, a breathless instant seemed to 
hang in mid-air, ^ then righted, and shot forward 
smoothly. Uttering a hoarse shout of joy, the boys 
leaped out, and were again running the car ahead, 
and a moment later gave vent to a second and louder 
cry. 

In their faces blew the cooler air of a clear- 
ing. 

A few yards farther they halted. 

I can’t see a thing. Can’t open them,” declared 
Jack, as they stood rubbing their eyes, and recovering 
their breath. 

Neither can I. Give me your hand, and we ’ll 
soon fix it. There is a path here down to the water.” 
Feeling with his foot, Alex found it, and pulling Jack 
after, hastened down, and in another moment both 
111 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

were on their stomachs on the river-bank, their faces 
deep in the cooling water. 

Ten minutes later, greatly revived, but with faces 
and hands intensely smarting from their burns, the 
boys replenished the cans of water — for they still had 
a two miles' run through the smother of smoke — and 
lifted the car onto the main-line rails. 

As they did so, from far to the west came a whistle. 

‘‘A train! Can't we stop her?" suggested Jack. 

They 'd never see us in the smoke." 

“ Then, say, let us throw the old car across the 
tracks, so they 'll strike it. They would probably stop 
to see what it was." 

It might derail her. No. I 've got it. Come on, 
and get the car started so she 'll cross the bridge, and 
I 'll explain." 

Now," said Jack, as they rolled out on the 
trestle. 

‘‘You remember the steep grade just over the 
bridge? Well, we'll stop about fifty yards this side, 
wait till the train whistles the last crossing, then hit 
it up for all we are worth, and — " 

“ And let the train catch us? " cried Jack. “ But, 
gracious! won't that be taking an awful chance?" 

“ No, for she won't be going very fast, on account 
of the curve at the bottom, and we 'll be going like a 
house afire," declared Alex, confidently. “ And when 
she bunts us, we 'll jump for her cow-catcher, and five 
minutes later we 'll be out in the glorious fresh air 
again." 

A 


112 


w 



CLOSER CAME THE ROARING MONSTER, 


A RACE THROUGH THE FLAMES 


Well, all right. If you are willing to take the risk, 
I am,’' said Jack. 

They 'reached the spot designated by Alex, and 
brought the car to a stand. 

Again came the whistle of the train. Ready ! ” 
cried Alex. ‘‘ The next time ! ” 

It came. Like sprinters they threw themselves at 
the car, and in a few strides were racing down the 
rails at full speed ; reached the head of the grade, and 
sprang over the tail-board just as the train rumbled 
onto the bridge. 

Downward they shot, gaining momentum at every 
turn of the wheels. 

‘‘ Whe-ew ! But we 're taking an awful chance,” 
said Jack, nervously. 

No. Listen to her brakes,” said Alex. 

Despite his assurance, when, a moment later, the 
great engine suddenly appeared out of the smoke and 
came thundering down upon them, Alex faltered, and, 
with Jack, nervously clutched the sides of the little car. 
But dashing on unrestrained, they yet further in- 
creased their mad speed, and for a few seconds seemed 
even to be holding their own with the mighty mogul. 

Then the great engine began eating up the distance 
between them, and the boys gathered themselves to- 
gether for the supreme moment. 

Closer came the roaring monster. Now, don’t 
jump,” cautioned Alex, who had regained his nerv^e. 

Wait until she is just going to hit us, then fall for- 
ward and grab the brace — that rod there. 

115 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Here she comes ! Ready ! Now! 

With a jolt the engine hit the car, and in an instant 
the boys fell forward, grasped a smoke-box brace, and 
in another moment had scrambled to the top of the 
cow-catcher. 

And they were safe ! 

When, ten minutes later, the train came to a stand- 
still at Bixton, the engineer suddenly felt his hair rise 
on end as two wildly unkempt and blackened figures 
appeared slowly dismounting from the front of his 
engine, and stumbled across the station platform. 
But the shout of joy which greeted them told they 
were no ghosts. 

‘‘ Although I think we were n’t far from it, were 
we. Jack?” said Alex, at home a few minutes after, 
when his mother made a similar comparison. 

I hope I ’ll not be as near it again for a long time 
to come,” said Jack, earnestly. 


116 


VIII 


THE SECRET TELEGRAM 

LEX, will you work for me three or four hours 



to-night?’’ requested the Bixton night oper- 
ator of Alex one evening late in October. I have 
just had an invitation to a surprise party at Brodies’, 
and would n’t care to miss it.” 

Alex agreed willingly. I ’ll be right in line then 
for the latest news of the chase,” he declared. For 
an attempt had been made that morning to rob the 
Farmers’ Savings Bank at Zeisler, a posse had been 
sent from Bixton to aid in the pursuit of the robbers, 
and reports from the hunt were being anxiously 
looked for. 

‘‘ Take care you don’t get in line for any bullets,” 
laughed the operator as he left. “ It ’s your weakness, 
you know, to get mixed up in any excitement that ’s 
going on within a mile of you.” 

To Alex’s disappointment *hour after hour passed, 
however, and brought no further word, either of the 
pursued, or the pursuers. Finally, just before mid- 
night, hearing Zeisler come in ” on the wire to re- 
port the passing of a freight, Alex reached for the 
key, determined to inquire. 


117 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


As he did so footsteps sounded on the silent plat- 
form without, the waiting-room door opened, and two 
strangers appeared at the ticket-window. Glancing 
in, they turned to the office door, and entered. 

Hello, youngster,’’ said the taller of the two, 
cordially, leaning over the parcel-counter. What ’s 
the news from the man-hunt? ” 

‘‘ I was going to ask Zeisler just as you came in,” 
replied Alex, turning again to the key. 

‘‘ Well, never mind, then. Just tell them they were 
captured here, instead.” 

What! Captured here?” exclaimed Alex. 

That ’s it. About an hour ago, just north, by 
the Bloomsbury posse. Sheriff O’Brien sent us down 
with the news, so you could send word up and down 
the line and call in the other posses. No need of them 
plugging around all night.” 

But, instead of complying, Alex suddenly turned 
more fully toward the two men. ‘‘ What posse did 
you say you were with ? ” 

“Bloomsbury! Bloomsbury!” said the smaller 
man, impatiently. 

“ Bloomsbury! Don’t you mean Bloomsburg? ” 

“ Well, what thundering difference — ” The taller 
man flashed a warning gesture, and in an instant Alex 
understood. 

He zvas face to face zuith the bank robbers them- 
selves! 

For a moment he stared from one to the other in 
consternation. Then, sharply recovering himself, he 
118 


THE SECRET TELEGRAM 

turned quickly back to the key. But he was too late. 
He had betrayed his discovery. 

Both men laughed. ‘‘ Your surmise is correct, my 
young friend,” said the taller man, lightly. ‘‘ We 
are the gentlemen who were forced to leave Zeisler 
so hurriedly this morning. 

But don't let that make any difference,” he con- 
tinued, producing a revolver and placing it signifi- 
cantly on the counter before him. Go right ahead 
with the message. 

Or wait, give me a blank, and I 'll write it, so you 
will be sure to have it right.” 

Oh, hold on,” interposed his companion. Now 
that he knows who we are, how do you know he will 
send the message as you write it, and not just the other 
thing — give us away? ” 

The first speaker threw down his pen. Well, I 'm 
an idiot. That 's so.” 

He thought a moment, then, turning toward Alex, 
eyed him sharply an instant, and said: ‘‘Youngster, 
I 'll give you a dollar a word if you will give me your 
solemn promise to send this message just as I write 

it.” 

A bare instant Alex hesitated, while the tempter 
whispered that it would mean thirty or forty dollars 
for a few minutes' work, and that everyone would 
take it for granted he had been compelled to send it. 
Then abruptly he leaned back in his chair and shook 
his head. “ I could n't do it,” he said quietly but 
positively. 


119 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

“ Oh, you could n’t, eh. Goody-goody ? ” exclaimed 
the smaller man, with a snarl, catching up the revolver 
and pointing it at Alex’s head. Now could you do 
it?” 

The taller man caught his arm. Don’t be a fool, 
Jake. After all, we could n’t be sure he was n’t fool- 
ing us even if he took the money. 

Look here, I have a scheme.” 

They stepped back and spoke together in low tones 
for a moment; then the taller turned again to Alex, 
who meantime had remained quiet in his chair, futilely 
endeavoring to think of some means of spreading the 
alarm. 

‘‘ I suppose you are not the only operator at this 
station, kid ? ” 

No; there is a day and a night operator. I am 
only " subbing ’ for the night man,” responded Alex, 
wondering. 

‘‘ Where is he? ” 

At a party.” 

‘‘ Where is the day man? ” 

At his boarding-house. But you could n’t 
get either of them to do it,” Alex declared con- 
fidently, thinking he had caught the drift of their 
purpose. 

Never mind what we could or what we could n’t. 
Where does the day operator board? Is it far?” 

Momentarily Alex had a mind to refuse to tell; 
then, on the thought that suspicion might be aroused 
if one of the robbers went to rout the day man out, 
120 


THE SECRET TELEGRAM 


he replied, About a quarter of a mile,’’ and described 
how the house could be reached. 

Again the two men held a whispered consultation, 
and at its conclusion the smaller man hurriedly left. 

“ Now I suppose you are wondering what we pro- 
pose doing with the day operator,’’ said the tall man, 
with a grin, when they were alone. Well, it ’s so 
good I think I ’ll tell you. One of the cleverest get- 
away schemes you ever heard of, and my own idea. 
Can you guess?” 

Alex shook his head. If it ’s not to send the 
message — and which I know he won’t — I don’t 
know.” 

The robber laughed. ‘‘ You are going to send the 
message, and he is going to stand just outside the 
door here and tell us letter by letter just what you 
make the instruments say. See ? ” 

Alex uttered an exclamation. And, strange as it 
may seem, it was not entirely of chagrin, for the 
striking originality and ingenuity of the plan imme- 
diately appealed to his own peculiar genius for getting 
over difficulties. 

‘‘ And then,” continued the talkative safe-breaker, 
‘‘ we will tie you both in your chairs, cut the wires, 
then flag the night express, and depart for the East 
like respectable citizens, and by the time you have 
been found and the wires restored we will be well out 
of danger. 

‘‘ Now, I claim there is some class to that scheme. 
What?” 


121 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Despite himself, Alex could not forbear a smile, 
even while he at once saw that to defeat the plan would 
be almost an impossibility. Nevertheless, as the bank 
robber turned his attention to a time-table, Alex deter- 
minedly addressed his wits to the problem. 

Presently, as he sat looking at the telegraph in- 
struments for an inspiration, he started. That last 
First of April joke he had played on his father! The 
cut-ofif arrangement of wires was still in place beneath 
the instrument table ! Could he not use it ? 

He determined to see whether the connections were 
still in order. Fortunately he was sitting close to the 
table, with his feet beneath. Making a move as 
though tired of his position, he crossed one foot over 
the other, and sank a little lower in the chair. Then, 
the change having brought no comment from the man 
at the counter, he carefully reached out the upper foot, 
found the two wires and pressed them together. Im- 
mediately came a click from the instruments. 

It was in working order! With hope Alex at once 
addressed himself to its possibilities, and soon a sug- 
gestion came. Yes, I believe I could do it,’’ he told 
himself with satisfaction. I ’ll make a try anyway. 
So much for never giving up.” 

At that moment the footfalls of the returning rob- 
ber and those of another sounded on the platform 
without. Both men were talking, and as they entered 
the waiting-room Alex heard the evidently still un- 
suspecting Jones say: Funny, though. I never heard 
of the boy being troubled with his heart before.” 

122 


COME on! come on! exclaimed the man in the doorway 









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THE SECRET TELEGRAM 


The next moment Jones’s casual tones changed to 
a sharp cry of fright, and Alex knew that the robber 
had revealed himself. Now you keep your tongue 
between your teeth, and do exactly what you are told, 
young man, or you get this! You understand? 

Now turn about — your back toward the office 
door — so.” The door was flung open, and the rob- 
ber appeared standing sideways, his gun in his hand, 
pointing at the day operator, who was just out of 
Alex’s sight. 

Now what you are to do is to read oflf letter by 
letter what this young shaver in here sends on the 
wire. You are a tab on him. You understand?” 

In a trembling voice Jones responded in the affirma- 
tive. 

And the first one of you who appears to do any- 
thing not straight and aboveboard gets daylight 
through his head,” he added, raising his voice for 
Alex’s benefit. Then, addressing his partner, he said : 

Give the kid the message. Bill.” 

The tall man leaned over the counter and tossed the 
blank on the table before Alex. 

Who will I send it to first? ” asked Alex. 

“ The sheriff, Watson Siding.” 

All right. But first, you know, I have to call 
him,” explained Alex, somewhat nervously, now that 
the critical moment had come. His call is WS.” 

Therewith he began slowly calling, that Jones might 
read off each letter as he sent it, WS, WS, WS, 
BX.” 


125 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


WS, WS — ’’ 

‘‘ I, I/’ answered WS. 

WS answers/’ interpreted Jones. 

Steadying himself with a deep breath, Alex pro- 
ceeded to carry out his plan. Carefully reaching forth 
with his foot beneath the table, he pressed the two 
wires together, then loudly clicked his key. The in- 
struments, thus cut out,” of course failed to respond. 

The wire appears to have opened,” announced 
Jones. “ Probably the man at WS has opened his 
key while getting a blank or a pen.” 

Again Alex clicked the key as though in a futile 
effort to send, then leaving it open, thus holding the 
instruments on the table dead,” began ticking his 
foot against the impromptu key beneath the table. 

And while the instruments at Bixton remained 
momentarily silent, the surprised operator at Watson 
Siding read in draggy but decipherable signals the 
words : 

‘‘ Read every other word.” 

‘‘ Come on ! Come on ! ” exclaimed the man in the 
doorway, turning suspiciously. Immediately Alex 
withdrew his foot and closed the key, and at the re- 
sulting audible click Jones announced: The wire has 
closed. He can send now.” 

All right. Come ahead,” commanded the short 
man, impatiently. 

Then very deliberately, with a pause after each 
word, seemingly to enable Jones to interpret, but really 
to give himself time to send another word, unheard, 
126 


THE SECRET TELEGRAM 


beneath the table, Alex sent on the key, and Jones 
read aloud, the following message: 

Sheriff^ 

‘‘Watson Siding: 

“ Safe-blowers have been captured near here. Call 
in your posse. 

“ (Signed) O’Brien, 

“ Sheriff Quigg County.” 

What the at first puzzled and then thunderstruck 
operator at Watson Siding read off his instrument ran 
very differently. It read : 

“ Safe THEY blowers ARE have HERE been IN 
captured STATION near INTEND here. GOING 
call OUT in BY your NIGHT posse. EXPRESS. 

“ (Signed) ’PHONE O’Brien, 

“ BACK Sheriff HERE Quigg QUICK County.” 

A moment after giving his “ OK ” the Watson 
Siding operator was at the telephone calling for Bix- 
ton central. 

Meantime, having thus sent the message to WS 
to the bank-breakers’ satisfaction, Alex proceeded to 
call and send it by turns to Zeisler, Hammerton, and 
other stations on the line. Sending slowly, to make 
the most of his time, it was within fifteen minutes of 
the hour the express was due when Alex had sent the 
last of the messages. 


127 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


‘‘ Now you can step in and see your friend/’ said 
the man in the doorway, addressing Jones, who ap- 
peared, white and trembling, and coming behind the 
counter, dropped into a chair facing Alex. The 
speaker then once more disappeared, and presently an I 
opening click of the instruments told the nature of his 
errand. The wires had been cut. 

He soon returned, and rummaging about, while the 
taller man stood guard over them, he found some 
ropes, and proceeded to bind Alex and the day oper- 
ator tightly in their chairs. 

Just as the task was completed there came a long- 
drawn whistle from the west. Both robbers promptly 
turned to the door. Well, good night, gentlemen,” 
said the smaller, grimly. Much obliged for your 
kind services.” 

And I would just pause to repeat,” said the taller, 
jocosely, that there is some class to this get-away 
scheme, should any one ask you. Good night.” 

Ves, there is class — but it is n't first! ” 

Uttering a cry the two bank robbers staggered back 
from the door, and with a bound the deputy sheriff 
and a constable were upon them, bore them to the 
floor, and after a brief but terrific struggle disarmed 
and handcuffed them. 

Yes,” said the sheriff, rising, and with his knife 
quickly freeing the two prisoners, “ there was class 
to it, but it was second. 

Our young friend here takes first.' ” 

The robbers turned upon Alex with furiously flash- 
128 






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THE SECRET TELEGRAM 


ing eyes. How did you do it, smarty ? ’’ snapped the 
shorter man. 

Alex laughed, kicked one foot beneath the table, and 
the instrument responded with a click. A little First 
of April trick. What do you think of it? ’’ 

Whatever the two renegades might have said 
through their gritting teeth, there was no doubt as to 
what the sheriff and the others thought. Nor the bank 
officials at Zeisler, when, a day later, there came to 
Alex a highly commendatory letter and a check for 
two hundred dollars. 

But better even than this, in Alex's estimation, a 
few mornings after the chief despatcher called him to 
the wire and announced his appointment as night oper- 
ator at Foothills, a small town on the western division. 


131 


IX 


JACK PLAYS REPORTER, WITH UNEXPECTED RESULTS 

N ot long after Alex left Bixton to take up his 
duties at Foothills, Jack, at Hammerton, also 
received an advancement. In itself it was not of par- 
ticular note, beyond an encouraging increase in salary, 
and a transfer from the day to the night force; but 
indirectly it resulted in an experience more thrilling 
than any Jack’s genius for tackling adventurous dif- 
ficulties had yet brought him. 

Wheeling by the office of the Daily Star ” one 
afternoon, he heard his name called, and turned his 
head to discover West, the reporter with whom he 
had made the memorable Oakton trip, hastening after 
him. 

“ Just the man I was looking for. Jack,” declared 
West, as the young operator wheeled to the curb. I 
have a job for you. 

How would you like to tackle a bit of Black Hand 
investigation ? ” 

Jack laughed. ‘‘ You don’t mean it.” 

I certainly do. It ’s this way,” went on the re- 
porter, lowering his voice. A Black Hand letter de- 
manding money was received last week by Tommy 
132 


JACK PLAYS REPORTER 

SpanelH, of the Italian restaurant. It was mailed 
here ; and we have the tip that last evening two 
foreigners were seen stealing across the old quarry 
turnpike, and into the woods, as though not wishing 
to be seen. Of course they may not be connected with 
this at all, but again they may; and I was put on the 
job to find out. The difficulty is that I am too well 
known. If they caught sight of me, they would be 
suspicious immediately. 

‘‘ But they would never suspect a lad like you,” 
West proceeded; ‘‘and I know you could carry any- 
thing through that came along. So will you run out 
there and investigate for me ? ” 

“ Why, certainly. But just what shall I do? ” Jack 
asked. 

“ Wheel up and down the quarry turnpike for an 
hour or so, then, if you have seen no one, beat around 
through the woods as far as the old stone quarry. 
And any foreigners you come upon, take a good look 
at. That ’s all. And drop in at the office here in the 
morning, and report.” 

“ That ’s easy. All right,” agreed Jack readily. 

“ Thank you. And keep the matter quiet, you 
know,” West added. “ We want an exclusive story 
for the ‘ Star ’ if anything comes of it.” 

“ I understand. And, say,” said Jack as he turned 
away, “ I ’ll take my camera, too. I may be able to 
get a snap of them, if I see anyone.” 

“ Good idea. A picture would help to land them, 
if they are the fellows we want; and we could run 
133 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

it in the paper with our story. Go ahead, Jack, and 
good luck.’’ 

Jack was not long in wheeling home and securing 
his folding Brownie ; and a half hour later found him 
pedalling slowly along the quarry road near the point 
several miles from the city where the suspicious for- 
eigners had been seen to enter the woods. 

An hour passed, however, and he had seen no 
doubtful characters, and finally dismounting at the en- 
trance to a path he knew to lead toward the old stone 
quarry. Jack concealed his wheel in a thicket, and set 
off to make an investigation in that direction. 

A moment after he came to a halt with a sharp 
exclamation. In the path at his feet lay a murderous- 
looking stiletto. Picking it up, he examined it. Yes; 
it was of foreign make. And the still damp mud 
stains on the side of the blade which had lain upper- 
most showed it had been but recently dropped. 

Apprehensively Jack cast a glance about him, almost 
immediately to utter a second suppressed exclamation. 
Emerging from the woods on the opposite side of 
the road was a short, dark man — undoubtedly an 
Italian. 

With beating heart Jack watched him. Was he one 
of the men he was looking for? 

In the middle of the road the stranger halted, looked 
sharply to right and left, and came quickly forward. 
Darting from the path Jack threw himself on the 
ground behind a bush, and the next moment the man 
hurriedly passed him. He was soon out of sight, and 
134 


JACK PLAYS REPORTER 

rising, Jack placed the dagger carefully in an inside 
pocket, and determinedly set off after. 

Half a mile he followed the Italian amid the trees. 
Then there appeared the light of an opening, and going 
forward more carefully. Jack found himself on the 
edge of the quarry clearing. The foreigner was hur- 
rying along the brink of the excavation, evidently 
heading for a small tumble-down cabin at its farther 
end. 

The man reached the shanty, and knocked. To 
Jack's surprise the door was opened by a negro. 

Wonder at this was quickly forgotten, however, for 
as the door closed from the woods behind Jack came 
the sound of voices, then an ejaculation in Italian. A 
moment Jack stood, in consternation, believing he had 
been seen. But a glance showed that the owners of 
the voices were yet out of sight beyond a rise, and 
recalling his wits, Jack ran for a nearby clump of 
elders. 

The voices came quickly nearer. Suddenly then, 
for the first time Jack recalled the camera. At once 
came the sugestion to get a snap of the newcomers as 
they stepped into the clearing. 

Jack glanced about him. A short distance away, 
and but a few feet from the path, was a low, tent-like 
spruce. With instant decision he made for it, drawing 
the camera from his pocket as he ran. 

Dropping to his knees, he wormed his way beneath 
the tree, and through to the opposite side. Finding an 
aperture commanding the exit of the path, he opened 
135 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


and focused the camera upon it. The next moment 
the two Italians appeared. For the fraction of a sec- 
ond Jack hesitated, fearing the click of the shutter 
might betray him. But he took the chance, there was 
a crisp, low click — and he had them, and they had 
passed on. 

Chuckling with delight. Jack crept forth. What 
next? Looking toward the shanty, he again saw the 
door opened by the negro. This decided him. Re- 
placing the camera in his pocket, he set off on a cir- 
cuit through the trees that would bring him back to 
the clearing immediately opposite the shanty, deter- 
mined if possible to reach it, and learn what was going 
on inside. 

Without incident he made the point desired, and 
gazing from the cover of a bush, discovered with sat- 
isfaction that the two hundred yards separating him 
from his goal was dotted with small bushy spruce. 
More important still, on that side of the cabin were 
no windows. 

Stooping, Jack was about to steal forth, when he 
paused with a new idea. It came from a stray piece 
of wrapping-paper lying on the ground before him. 

Why could n’t he conceal the camera in this paper, 
with a string tied to the shutter ; approach the house, 
knock, ask some question, and secretly snap whoever 
opened the door? 

To think was to decide, and at once he set about 
preparations. Finding some cord in a pocket, he first 
deadened the click of the shutter with a thread of the 
136 


JACK PLAYS REPORTER 

string, and secured a piece of it to the shutter trigger. 
Carefully then he wrapped the camera, open, in the 
paper, and with his knife cut a small hole opposite the 
lens, and a second and smaller hole beneath. Through 
the latter he fished out the trigger-string — and the 
detective camera was complete. 

Without delay Jack adjusted the parcel under his 
arm, holding the trigger-string in his fingers, and 
strode boldly forward toward the shanty. He reached 
it, approached the door, and knocked. From within 
came the sound of voices, then a heavy step. Draw- 
ing the string taut Jack moved back several paces, and 
pointed the opening in the package at the door. 

But success was not to come too easily. The latch 
lifted, and the door opened only a few inches, barely 
showing the eyes and flat nose of the negro. 

“ W’at yo’ want? he demanded. 

Would you please tell me the way out to the 
road?’' said Jack steadily. 

The negro regarded him sharply a moment, then 
opening the door barely sufficient to reach out a hand, 
pointed toward the woods, and said gruffly, ‘‘ Yo’ see 
dat broke tree ? Right out dah.” 

Which one? I see two,” declared Jack, coolly. 

Impatiently the negro threw the door wide, stepped 
out, and pointed again. In an instant Jack had pulled 
the string, and from the parcel had come a soft 
‘‘thugk!” ‘‘Thank you, sir,” said Jack, turning 
away, and inwardly chuckling at the double meaning 
of the words. “ Thank you.” 

137 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


But look aheah, boy,” added the colored man 
threateningly, “ doan yo’ be prowlin’ roun’ heah ! 
Un’stan’?” 

‘‘ No fear. I ’ll be glad when I ’m away,” responded 
Jack, again secretly laughing, and headed for the 
woods, the negro watching him until he was half way 
across the clearing. 

Once more in the shelter of the trees. Jack deter- 
mined to follow up his success by endeavoring to 
discover just what was taking place at the cabin. Hid- 
ing the camera in a convenient brush-heap, he made 
sure all was quiet, and again stole forth. Slipping 
quickly from shrub to shrub, he safely made the cross- 
ing, and came to a halt at the rear of the shanty. 

To his ears came the sound of voices in subdued 
discussion. They were so muffled, however, that he 
could distinguish nothing, and recalling a partly open 
window at the front, he went forward to the corner, 
peered cautiously about, and tiptoed to within a few 
feet of it. 

At once the voices came to him plainly. 

You gotta dat? ” 

Stan’ in doo’way, hat in yo’ han’, upside down,” 
responded the colored man’s gruff voice. 

Wondering, Jack drew nearer. 

‘‘ At halfa da past two by da beeg clock,” continued 
the first speaker. 

There was a pause, and the negro repeated, At 
half pas’ two by dah city clock, shahp.” 

Suddenly it came to Jack. At the dictation of the 
138 


JACK PLAYS REPORTER 

Italian, the negro was writing a Black Hand ’’ letter 
— ordering one of their victims to display some signal 
to show that the demand for money would be complied 
with ! 

The Italian’s next sentence left no further doubt. 

If you no giva da sign, you deada man by seex 
clock.” 

At the words, and the fierceness with which they 
were uttered, Jack felt a chill run up his spine. Had 
he followed his immediate impulse he would have 
fled. But determining to learn if possible who the 
letter was for, he waited. 

‘‘ What numbah ? ” asked the negro. 

‘‘ Feefity-nine Main.” 

The Italian restaurant ! Another letter to Spanelli ! 
The men he was after! 

Jack waited to hear no more, but tiptoeing back 
about the corner, was off for the woods, jubilant at 
his success. 

Indeed Jack was over jubilant — so jubilant that he 
forgot the necessity of caution, made a short cut across 
an open space in full view of the shanty, and half 
way was brought to a sudden realization of his 
mistake by the creak of an opening door. In con- 
sternation he at once saw he could not reach cover 
before being seen, and also that did he run, the 
Black-Handers would understand they had been dis- 
covered. 

With quick presence of mind he recognized and 
instantly did the one thing possible. Turning, he 
139 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


headed back boldly for the cabin. The next instant the 
three Italians came into view, immediately discovered 
him, and halted. Secretly trembling, but with a cool 
front, Jack approached them as they stood, excitedly 
whispering. 

‘‘ Would you kindly tell me the time? ’’ he asked. 

The three men exchanged glances, then, as at a 
signal, stepped forward and surrounded him. ‘‘ Now, 
whata you want?’’ demanded one of them sharply, 
thrusting his dark face close to Jack’s. Before Jack 
could repeat his question the shanty door opened and 
the negro appeared. Exclaiming angrily, he ran 
toward them. 

‘'W’at he want? W’at he want now?” he de- 
manded. 

‘‘ He say, whata da time,” repeated one of the 
Italians. 

‘‘ W’at de time ? He am a spy ! A spy ! ” cried the 
negro. ‘‘ In de house with him ! ” Jack sprang back, 
and turned to run. With a rush the negro and one 
of the foreigners were upon him, and despite his ter- 
rified struggles he was dragged bodily into the shanty. 
There they flung him heavily into a chair, and gath- 
ered menacingly about him. 

Now boy, w’at yo’ spyin’ roun’ heah fo’? Eh?” 
demanded the negro fiercely. 

Instinctively Jack opened his lips to deny the charge, 
but closed them, and remained in dogged silence. 
Despite his peril, he felt he could not tell a deliberate 
falsehood. The negro repeated the question. 

140 


JACK PLAYS REPORTER 

I simply asked them the time/' said Jack eva- 
sively. 

With a snarl one of the foreigners caught him by 
the shoulders and yanked him upright. ‘‘ Tie heem! " 
he directed, and roughly two of the others drew 
Jack's hands behind him, and bound them with a cord. 
As one of the Italians then proceeded to tie a hand- 
kerchief about his ankles. Jack barely suppressed a cry 
of fright. But grimly he clenched his teeth, and not 
a sound escaped him as the negro then caught him up, 
carried him across the room, kicked open a door, and 
threw him upon the floor within. 

For a few minutes Jack lay dazed, then turning on 
his side, he looked about him. By the dim light of 
a dusty window he saw he was in a small, roughly 
furnished bedroom. Before he had taken in further 
particulars, however, a sound of heated discussion in 
the outer room drew his attention. 

‘‘No, no! We can't taka da chance!" came the 
voice of one of the Italians. “ Not wid dat boy! " 

Filled anew with terror Jack struggled to a sitting 
position and began straining desperately at his bonds. 
A n}oment's efifort caused his heart to sink. The knots 
were as taut as though made of wire. 

Determinedly he continued to strain and pull, how- 
ever, and presently, losing his balance, he rolled over 
on his side, and something hard pressed into his 
chest. 

The dagger he had picked up! Quickly he saw the 
possibility of using it. Working again into a sitting 
141 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


position, he bent low and sought to reach inside his 
coat and seize the hilt of the knife with his teeth. But 
as often as he reached, the coat swung, and the hilt 
evaded him. 

Jack was not to be beaten, however. Getting to his 
knees, he bent far over, until his head almost touched 
the floor, and fell vigorously to shaking himself. At 
the second effort the dagger slipped out to the floor. 
Quickly then he got a firm hold on the end of the 
handle with his teeth, struggled again to a sitting 
position, drew his knees up as far as possible, and 
bending low between them, began stabbing at the 
handkerchief about his ankles with the point of the 
weapon. 

At the first attempt the knife barely touched the 
handkerchief. He tried again, and just reached it. 
Throwing his head far back, to gain momentum, he 
lunged forward with all his strength. The keen point 
struck the linen squarely, there was a rip and tear — 
and his feet were free. 

As the severed handkerchief fell from his ankles, 
the dagger, slipping from Jack’s teeth, clattered to the 
floor. But the noisy discussion still going on without 
prevented its being heard; and promptly Jack turned 
to the problem of freeing his hands. 

As they were tied behind him, this promised to be 
far more difficult. Indeed Jack’s courage was begin- 
ning to fail him, when the method of freeing his 
ankles suggested a possibility. At once he essayed it. 
Rising to a kneeling position, he strained at his wrists 
142 


JACK PLAYS REPORTER 

for several minutes, then, bending far over, began 
working his hands down beneath him. 

It seemed as though they would never come, and 
again and again he had to pause for breath. Desper- 
ately he continued, and suddenly at last they slipped, 
and were under him, directly below his knees. 

Throwing himself over on his side, he once more 
grasped the dagger hilt in his teeth, and as he lay, 
carefully aimed the point between his legs at the cord 
about his wrists, and gave a quick, hard thrust. At 
the first blow he struck the cord fairly, but only half 
severed the strand. Again he lunged, and the next 
moment he was free. 

The heated debate was still in progress in the outer 
room, and nearly exhausted though he was. Jack im- 
mediately scrambled to his feet and tiptoed to the 
window. To his joy he discovered it was made of a 
sliding frame, only fastened by a loosely-driven nail. 
It required but a few minutes’ work to remove this, 
and very cautiously he began sliding the window 
back. 

Half way it went easily, without noise. Then it 
stuck. Carefully Jack put his shoulder .to it. Sud- 
denly, without warning, it gave, then stopped with a 
jar, and to his horror a broken pane shot from the 
frame and fell clattering to the floor. 

From the other room came a shout and a rush of 
feet. In desperation Jack stepped back, and with a 
run fairly dove at the opening. His head and shoul- 
ders passed through, then he stuck. Behind him the 
143 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


door flew open. With a desperate wriggle he strug- 
gled through, and fell in a heap to the ground just as 
the negro reached the window and made a wild lunge 
for him. The next moment Jack was on his feet and 
off across the clearing like a hare. 

The four lawbreakers were quickly out of the house 
in full chase. Presently there was the report of a 
pistol, and a shrill wheeeu ’’ just over Jack’s head. 
Ducking instinctively, but with grimly set lips, he 
rushed on. Again came the whine of a bullet, and 
again. With a final sprint Jack reached the cover of 
the woods in safety, darted to the brush-pile and re- 
covered his camera, and on, straight through the trees 
for the spot at which he had hidden his wheel. 

Love of outdoor life and sports now stood Jack in 
good stead. Despite the exhausting efforts of his es- 
cape, and the hard running amid the trees, over trunks 
and through undergrowth, he kept on at the top of his 
speed, and finally reached the road ahead of the near- 
est of his pursuers. 

Rushing for his wheel, he dragged it forth, and 
quickly had it on the road. Not a moment too soon. 
As he sprang into the saddle there was a shout and a 
crash of bushes but a few feet from him. But throw- 
ing all his weight on the pedals, he shot away, and 
a moment after sped about a bend in the road — and 
was safe. 

Jack would not have been a real boy had there not 
been considerable pride in his voice when, entering 
the ‘‘ Star ” office the following morning, he handed 
144 


JACK PLAYS REPORTER 

West, the reporter, two small photographs, neatly 
mounted, and said : 

Here are the pictures, Mr. West.’’ 

West sprang to his feet. “No! Great! Splendid!” 
he cried. “ How did you do it. Jack? 

“ But here — ” Pushing Jack into a chair, he 
dropped back into his own, and caught up a pencil. 
“ Give me the whole story, from beginning to end. If 
the police round up these fellows this morning we will 
run it in to-day’s edition.” 

This, with the aid of Jack’s snap-shots, the police 
did, capturing the entire band; and that afternoon’s 
edition of the “ Star ” carried a two-column story of 
Jack’s adventure with the Black-Handers, which, with 
the pictures, made what West declared “ the biggest 
story of a month of Sundays.” 


145 


X 


A RUNAWAY TRAIN 

‘‘ lJURRY in, Ward, or the lamp will be out! ’’ 
JL JL Alex, who had now been night operator at 
Foothills six months, closed the station door behind 
him, and laughingly flicked his rain-soaked cap toward 
the day operator, whom he had just come to relieve. 

Is it raining that hard? You look like a drowned 
rat for sure,” said Saunders as he reached for his hat 
and coat. ‘‘ Why did n't you stay at home, and 'phone 
down? I would have been glad to work for you — 
not.'' 

Wait until you are out in it, and you 'll not 
laugh,'' declared Alex, struggling out of his dripping 
ulster. It is the worst storm this spring.'' 

And wait until you see the fun you are going to 
have with the wire to-night, and you 'll not indulge 
in an over-abundance of smiles. I have n't had a dot 
from the despatcher since six o'clock. Had to get 
clearance for Nineteen around by MQ, and now we 've 
lost them.” 

There is someone now,” said Alex, as the instru- 
ments began clicking. 

‘‘It's somebody west. IC, I think. Yes; Indian 
Canyon,” said Saunders, pausing as he turned to the 
146 


A RUNAWAY TRAIN 


door. What is he after ? He certainly can’t make 
himself heard by X if we can’t.” 

‘‘ X, X, X,” rapidly repeated the sounder, calling 
Exeter, the despatching office. X, X, X ! Qk ! ” 

Alex and Saunders looked at one another with a 
start. Several times the operator at Indian Canyon 
repeated the call, more urgently, then as hurriedly 
began calling Imken, the next station east of him. 

There must be-something wrong,” declared Alex, 
stepping to the instrument table. Saunders followed 
him. 

IM, IM, IC, Qk! Qk! ” clicked the sounder. 

“ IM, IM — ” 

‘‘ I, I, IM,” came the response, and the two oper- 
ators at Foothills listened closely. 

‘‘ A wild string of loaded ore cars just passed here,” 
buzzed the instruments. ‘‘ W ere going forty miles an 
hour. They ’ll be down there in no time. If there ’s 
anything on the main line get it off. I can’t raise X 
for orders.” 

The two listening operators exchanged glances of 
alarm, and anxiously awaited Imken’s response. For 
a moment the sounder made a succession of inarticu- 
late dots, then ticked excitedly, “Yes, yes! OK! 
OK ! ” and closed. 

“What did he mean by that?” asked Saunders 
beneath his breath. “ That there was something on 
the main track there ? ” 

“ Perhaps a switch engine cutting out ore empties. 
We ’ll know in a minute.” 


147 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


The wire again snapped open, and whirred, I got 
it off — the yard engine! Just in time! Here they 
come now ! Like thunder ! 

‘‘There — they’re by! Are ten of them. All 
loaded. Going like an avalanche. Lucky thing the 
yard engine was — ” 

Sharply the operator at Indian Canyon broke in to 
hurriedly call Terry ville, the next station east. 

“ But the runaways won’t pass Terry ville, will 
they? ” Alex exclaimed. “ Won’t the grades between 
there and Imken pull them up?” 

Saunders shook his head. “Ten loaded ore cars 
travelling at that rate would climb those grades.” 

“ Then they will be down here — and in twenty or 
thirty minutes! And there’s the Accommodation, 
coming from the east,” said Alex rapidly, “ and we 
can’t reach anyone to stop her ! ” 

Saunders stared. “ That ’s so. I ’d' forgotten her. 

“ But what can we do ? ” he demanded helplessly. 

Terryville answered, and in strained silence they 
awaited his report. “ Yes, they are coming. I 
thought it was thunder. 

“ Here they are now,” he added an instant after. 

“ They ’re past ! ” 

“ They ’ll reach us ! What shall we do ? ” gasped 
Saunders. 

Alex turned from the table, and as the Indian Can- 
yon operator hastily called Jakes Creek, the last sta- 
tion intervening, began striding up and down the 
room, thinking rapidly. 


148 


A RUNAWAY TRAIN 


If they only had more battery — could make the 
current in the wire stronger! Immediately on the 
thought came remembrance of the emergency battery 
he had made the previous year at Watson Siding. He 
spun about toward the office water-cooler. But only 
to utter an exclamation of disappointment. This 
cooler was of tin — of course useless for such a pur- 
pose. 

Hurriedly he began casting about for a substitute. 
“ Billy, think of something we can make a big battery 
jar of! ” he cried. ‘‘ To strengthen the wire! ’’ 

A battery ? But what would we do for bluestone ? 
I used the last yesterday ! ’’ 

Alex returned to the table, and threw himself hope- 
lessly into the chair. 

At the moment the Jakes Creek operator answered 
his call, and received the message of warning. 

‘‘ Say,” said Saunders, perhaps some of the other 
fellows on the. wire have bluestone and the other stuff, 
and could make a battery ! ” 

Alex uttered a shout. That 's it ! ” he cried, and 
springing to the telegraph key, as soon as the wire 
closed, called Indian Canyon. ‘‘ Have you any extra 
battery material there ? ” he sent quickly. 

‘^No. Why — ” 

Abruptly Alex cut him off and called Imken. He 
also responded in the negative. But from Terryville 
came a prompt Yes. Why — ” 

Have you one of those big stoneware water- 
coolers there ? ” 


149 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Yes, but wh — ’’ 

‘‘ Do you know how to make a battery?’’ 

“ No.” 

“ Well, listen — ” 

The instruments had suddenly failed to respond. A 
minute passed, and another. Five went by, and Alex 
sank back in the chair in despair. Undoubtedly the 
storm had broken the wire somewhere. 

“ Everything against us ! ” he declared bitterly. 
“ And the runaways will be down here now in fifteen 
or twenty minutes. What can we do?” 

“ I can’t think of anything but throwing the west 
switch,” said Saunders. “ And loaded, and going at 
the speed they are, they ’ll make a mess of everything 
on the siding. But that ’s the only way I can think 
of stopping them.” 

“ If there was any way a fellow could get aboard 
the runaways — ” 

Alex broke off sharply. Would it not be possible 
to board the runaway train as he and Jack had boarded 
the engine on the day of the forest fire ? Say, from a 
hand-car ? 

He started to his feet. “ Billy, get me a lantern, 
quick ! 

“ I ’m going for the section-boss, and see if we can’t 
board the runaways from the hand-car,” he explained 
as he caught up and began struggling into his coat. 
“ I did that once at Bixton — boarded an engine.” 

“Board it! How?” 

“ Run ahead of it, and let it catch us.” 

150 


A RUNAWAY TRAIN 


Saunders sprang for the lantern, lit it, and catching 
it up, Alex was out the door, and off across the tracks 
through the still pouring rain for the lights of the 
section foreman's house. Darting through the gate, 
he ran about to the kitchen door, and without cere- 
mony flung it open. The foreman was at the table, 
at his supper. He started to his feet. 

‘‘ Joe, there is a wild ore train coming down from 
the Canyon," explained Alex breathlessly, ‘‘ and the 
wire has failed east so we can't clear the line. 
Could n't we get the jigger out and board the runa- 
ways by letting them catch us ? " 

An instant the section-boss stared, then with the 
promptitude of the old railroader seized his cap, ex- 
claiming Go ahead ! " and together they dashed out 
to the gate, and across the tracks in the direction of 
the tool-house. 

Where did they start from? How many cars?" 
asked the foreman as they ran. 

‘‘ Indian Canyon. Ten, and all loaded." 

The section-man whistled. They'll be going 
twenty-five or thirty miles an hour. We will be tak- 
ing a big chance. But if we can catch them just over 
the grade beyond the sand-pits I guess we can do it. 
That will have slackened them. 

Here we are." 

As they halted before the section-house door the 
boss uttered a cry. I have n't the key! " 

Alex swung the lantern about, and discovered a 
pile of ties. ‘‘ Smash it in," he suggested, dropping 
151 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


the lantern. One on either side they caught up a tie, 
swayed back, and hurled it forward. There was a 
crash, and the door swung open. 

Catching up the lantern, they dashed in, threw from 
the hand-car its collection of tools, placed the light 
upon it, ran it out, and swung it onto the rails. 

Do you hear them? ” asked Alex as he threw off 
his coat. The foreman dropped to his knees and 
placed his ear to the rails, listened a moment, and 
sprang to his feet. Yes, they’re coming! Come 
on! 

Run her a ways first.” They pushed the car 
ahead, quickly had it on the run, and springing aboard, 
seized the handles, and one on either side, began pump- 
ing up and down with all their strength. 

As they neared the station the door opened and 
Saunders ran to the edge of the platform. The 
wire came O K and I just heard Z pass Thirty-three,” 
he shouted, but could n’t make them hear me. He 
reported the superintendent’s — ” 

They whirled by, and the rest was lost. 

‘‘ Did you catch it ? ” shouted Alex above the roar 
of the car. 

I think he meant,” shouted the foreman as he 
swung up and down, ‘‘ superintendent’s car ... at- 
tached to the Accommodation . . . heard he was 
coming . . . makes it bad. . . . We need every min- 
ute . . . and Old Jerry . . . the engineer ... ’ll be 
breaking his neck ... to bring her . . . through on 
time! 


152 


THEY WHIRLED BY, AND THE REST WAS LOST 




A RUNAWAY TRAIN 


Do you hear . . . runaways yet?” 

No.” 

On they rushed through the darkness, bobbing up 
and down like jumping- jacks, the little car rumbling 
and screeching, and bounding forward like a live 
thing. 

The terrific and unaccustomed strain began to tell 
on Alex. Perspiration broke out on his forehead, his 
muscles began to burn, and his breath to shorten. 

‘‘How much farther ... to the grade?” he 
panted. 

“ Here it is now. Six hundred yards to the 
top.” 

As they felt the resistance of the incline Alex began 
to weaken and gasp for breath. Grimly, however, he 
clenched his teeth, and fought on; and at last the 
section-man suddenly ceased working, and announced 
“ Here we are. Let up.” With a gasp of relief 
Alex dropped to a sitting position on the side of the 
car. 

“ There it comes,” said the foreman a moment after, 
and listening Alex heard a sound as of distant thun- 
der. 

“ How long before they ’ll be here? ” 

“ Five minutes, perhaps. And now,” said the sec- 
tion-boss, “ just how are we going to work this 
thing?” 

“ Well, when we boarded the engine at Bixton,” 
explained Alex, getting his breath, “ we simply waited 
at the head of a grade until it was within about two 
155 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


hundred yards of us, then lit out just as hard as we 
could go, and as she bumped us, we jumped/' 

“ All right. We 'll do the same." 

As the foreman spoke, the rain, which had decreased 
to a drizzle, entirely ceased, and a moment after the 
moon appeared. He and Alex at once turned toward 
the station. 

Just beyond was a long, black, snake-like object, 
shooting along the rails toward them. 

The runaway! 

On it swept over the glistening irons, the rumble 
quickly increasing to a roar. With an echoing crash 
it flashed by the station, and on. 

Nearer it came, the cars leaping and writhing; 
roaring, pounding, screeching. 

‘‘ Ready ! " warned the foreman, springing to the 
ground behind the hand-car. Alex joined him, and 
gazing over their shoulder, watching, they braced 
themselves for the shove. 

The runaways reached the incline, and swept on up- 
ward. Anxiously the two watched as they waited. 
Would the incline check them? 

‘‘ I don't see that they 're slowing," Alex said some- 
what nervously. 

It won't tell until they are half way up the grade," 
declared the section-man. “But, get ready. We 
can't wait to see. 

“ Go ! " he cried. Running the car forward, they 
leaped aboard, and again were pumping with all their 
might. 


156 


THE ENGINEER STEPPED DOWN FROM HIS CAB TO GRASP ALEX S HAND 




X 


A RUNAWAY TRAIN 


For a few moments the roar behind them seemed 
to decrease. Then suddenly it broke on them afresh, 
and the head of the train swept over the rise. 

Now pull yourself together for an extra spurt 
when I give the word,’’ shouted the foreman, who 
manned the forward handles, and faced the rear, 

then turn about and get ready to jump.” 

Roaring, screaming, clanking, the runaways thun- 
dered down upon them. 

‘‘Hit it up!” cried the section-man. With every 
muscle tense they whirled the handles up and down 
like human engines. 

“Let go! Turn about!” 

Alex sprang back from the flying handles, and faced 
about. The foreman edged by them, and joined him. 

Nearer, towering over them, rushed the leading ore 
car. 

“ Be sure and jump high and grab hard,” shouted 
the foreman. 

“Ready! Jump!'^ 

With a bound they went into the air, and the great 
car flung itself at them. Both reached the top of the 
end-board with their outstretched hands, and gripped 
tenaciously. As they swung against it, it seemed the 
car would shake them off. But clinging desperately, 
they got their feet on the brake-beam, and in another 
moment had tumbled headlong within. 

Alex sank down on the rough ore in a heap, gasp- 
ing. The seasoned section-man, however, was on his 
feet and at the nearby hand-brake in a twinkle. 

159 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Tightening it, he scrambled back over the bounding 
car to the next. 

Ten minutes later, screeching and groaning as 
though in protest, the runaways came to a final stop. 

Another ten minutes, and the engineer of the Ac- 
commodation suddenly threw on his air as he rounded 
a curve to discover a lantern swinging across the rails 
ahead of him. 

‘‘ Hello there, Jerry! Say, you Te not good enough 
for a passenger run,’’ said the section foreman humor- 
ously as he approached the astonished engineer. 

We ’re going to put you back pushing ore cars. 
There ’s a string here just ahead of you.” 

When he had explained the engineer stepped down 
from his cab to grasp Alex’s hand. ‘‘ Oh, it was more 
the foreman than I,” Alex declared. I could n’t 
have worked it alone.” 

A moment later the superintendent appeared. 
‘‘ Why, let me see,” he exclaimed on seeing Alex. 
‘‘ Are you not the lad I helped fix up an emergency 
battery at Watson Siding last spring? And who has 
been responsible for two or three other similar clever 
affairs ? 

‘‘ My boy, young as you are, my name ’s not Cam- 
eron if I don’t see that you have a try-out at the di- 
vision office before the month is out,” he announced 
decisively. We need men there with a head like 
yours.” 


160 











\ 



THE WAIT WAS NOT LONG, 


XI 


THE HAUNTED STATION 



‘RUE to the division superintendent's promise, 


X a month following the incident of the runaway 
ore train, Alex was transferred to the despatching 
office at Exeter. It was the superintendent himself 
who on the evening of his arrival presented him for 
duty to the chief night despatcher; and a few minutes 
later, having been initiated into the mysteries of di- 
recting and recording the movements of trains, Alex 
was shown to his wire. 

“ It is a short line — only as far as the Midway 
freight junction,’’ the chief explained; “but if you 
make good here, you will soon be given something 
bigger. 

“ And, by the way, take your time in sending to 
the operator at the Junction,” he added. “ He ’s a 
rather poor receiver, but was the only man we could 
get to go there, on account of that so-called ‘ haunt- 
ing ’ business.” 

“ Oh, has the ‘ ghost ’ appeared there again ? ” in- 
quired Alex with interest. For the “ haunting ” of 
the Midway Junction station had been a subject of 
much discussion on the main-line wire a few weeks 
back. 


163 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Yes, two nights ago. And like the four men there 
before him, the night man left next morning. It is 
a strange affair. But I think the man there now will 
stick.’’ 

At midnight Alex called Midway Junction, and 
sent the order starting north the last freight for the 
night. Fifteen minutes later the operator at MJ sud- 
denly called, and clicked, That ‘ Thing ’ is here 
again. It ’s walking up and down the platform just 
outside. 

“ There it is now ! ” he sent excitedly. ‘‘ And twice 
I ’ve jumped out, and the moment I opened the door 
it was gone! 

There it is again ! 

Now it’s on the roof!” he announced a few 
moments after. ‘‘ Rolling something down — just 
like the other chaps said ! Gee, I ’m no coward, but 
this thing is getting my nerve.” 

Though himself now considerably excited, Alex 
sought to reassure the MJ man. ‘‘ But you know 
there must be some simple explanation to it,” he sent. 

No one really believes in ghosts these days. Just 
don’t allow yourself to be frightened.” 

Yes, I know,” ticked the sounder. That ’s what 
I told myself before I came. It seems vastly different, 
though, right here on the spot, and all by yourself, 
and it dark as pitch outside. If there was only some- 
one else — ” 

The wire abruptly closed, a moment remained so, 
then suddenly opened, and in signals so excitedly 
164 


THE HAUNTED STATION 


made that Alex could only guess at some of them, 
he read: ‘‘Did you hear that? Did you get that?’’ 

“Hear what? The wire was closed to me.” 

“ Clooossclosd ! Goed 6eavns ! Whiiieeeeee 
Whyyy — ” By an effort the frightened operator at 
the other end of the wire pulled himself together, and 
sent more plainly: 

“ When I stopped that time someone broke in here 
and said : ‘ Ha ha ! Hi hi ! Look behind ! Look 
beh — ’ ” 

Again the wire closed, again opened. 

“ Theeeereit waaawas again ! ” 

Alex called the chief. “ Mr. Allen, that ‘ ghost,’ or 
whatever it is — ” 

Once more the instruments broke out in an almost 
inarticulate whirr, and with difficulty together they 
picked out the words : “. . . sounds in the next room 
. . . yelling and groaning just other side partition 
. . . whispering at me through a knothole ... an 
eye looking at me . . . stand it any longer . . . right 
now! G. B. (Good-by)!” 

Grasping the key, the chief sent quickly, “ Look 
here! Wait a moment! You there?” 

There was no response. Again he called, and gave 
it up. “ No use. He ’s off like the rest of them. 
Well, I ’m not sure I blame him. There must be 
something wrong. But it beats me ! ” 

As he was about to move away the chief turned 
back and handed Alex a letter. “ I overlooked giving 
it to you when you came in,” he explained. 

165 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


‘‘From Jack Orr!’’ said Alex with pleasure. A 
moment later he uttered a second exclamation, again 
read a paragraph, and with a delighted “ The very 
thing ! ’’ hastened after the chief. 

“ Mr. Allen, this letter is from a friend of mine, 
a first class commercial operator, who wants to get 
into railroad telegraphing, and who would be just the 
man to send to MJ. 

“ He is a regular amateur detective, and has all 
kinds of pluck,” Alex went on, and in a few words 
recounted Jack’s clearing up of the cash-box mystery 
at Hammerton, the part he played in the breaking up 
of the band of Black-Handers, and his resourcefulness 
when the wires were cut at Oakton. 

The chief smiled and reached for a message blank. 
“ Thank you. Ward,” he said. “ That ’s the man we 
want exactly. How soon can he come ? ” 

“ He says he could take a place with us right away, 
sir.” 

“ Good. We ’ll have him there if possible to-mor- 
row evening,” decided the chief, writing. 

Needless to say Jack was delighted when early 
the following morning at Hammerton he received 
the telegraphed appointment to the station at 
Midway. At once resigning at the Hammerton 
commercial office, he hurried home, by noon was 
on the train, and arrived at Midway Junction at 7 
o’clock. 

Entering the telegraph room, he called Exeter. 

Well, here I am, Al,” he ticked, when Alex himself 
166 


THE HAUNTED STATION 


responded. “ And I ’m ever so much obliged to you, 
old boy, for getting me the position.’’ 

Don’t mention it. And anyway,” responded Alex, 
‘‘ you had better save your thanks until you learn just 
what you are up against there. I did n’t have time to 
write — but the former man left last night, simply on 
the run.” And continuing, Alex explained. 

‘‘ So you see, you were called in as a sort of ex- 
pert.” 

Hi,” laughed Jack. Well, I ’ll do the best I 
can. But probably the ‘ ghost ’ won’t show up again 
now for a month or so?” 

‘‘ On the contrary, it is more likely to return soon,” 
clicked Alex. “ That has been the way every time 
so far — three or four appearances in succession. So 
you had better prepare for business at once.” 

Alex’s prediction was realized two nights later. A 
few minutes after the last freight had gone north, and 
Jack had been left entirely alone in the big station, he 
heard light footfalls outside on the platform. Going 
to the window, he peered out into the darkness, and 
seeing nothing, turned to the door. As he opened 
it the footsteps ceased. 

Surprised, Jack returned and secured a lantern, and 
passed out and down the long platform. From end 
to end it was deserted and silent. 

He returned to the office. Scarcely had he closed 
the door when again came the sound of footsteps. 

Jack paused and listened. They were light and 
quick, like those of a woman — up and down, up and 
167 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


down, now pausing a moment, now briskly resuming, 
as though the walker was anxiously waiting for some- 
one. 

On tiptoe Jack went back to the door, suddenly 
flung it open and flashed the lantern. As quickly the 
steps had ceased. Not a moving object was to be 
seen. 

Immensely puzzled. Jack withdrew, and stepped to 
the instrument table. As he reached toward the tele- 
graph key from almost directly overhead broke out a 
thundering rumble, as of a heavy wooden ball bound- 
ing down the roof. 

Catching up the lantern, he once more rushed forth. 
Immediately, as before, all was silence. Nervous at 
last, in spite of himself. Jack hesitated, then resolutely 
set forth on a complete round of the station and 
freight shed, throwing the lantern light upon the roof, 
through the dusty windows, and into every nook and 
corner. Nowhere was there a sign of life. 

He returned. The moment he closed the office door 
the rumble broke out afresh. 

Jack sprang to the instruments, called Exeter, and 
sent rapidly, ‘‘ Al, that ‘ ghost ’ is here, and in spite 
of me, is beginning to get on my — ’’ 

The line opened, then sharply clicked : Look be- 
hind ! Look behind ! ’’ 

With a cry Jack was on his feet, and had started 
for the door. Half way he pulled up, with a deter- 
mined effort controlled his panic, and returned to the 
key. 


168 


THE HAUNTED STATION 


I suppose you did n’t hear that, A1 ? ’’ he asked. 

Not a letter.” 

Well, good gracious, what — Oh! ” 

A cold chill shot up Jack’s back. The cause was a 
low, long-drawn moan, apparently from just the other 
side of the wooden partition, in the freight room. 
Again it came, then suddenly ceased to give place to 
a low, tense whispering imrnediately behind him. 
Jack sprang about, and leaped to his feet. Within 
touch of him was a large knot-hole. 

And was there not an eye at it? Peering at him? 

He sprang toward it. 

No! Nothing! The whispering, too, had ceased. 

Thoroughly shaken, Jack again turned for his hat 
— and again faltered between the chair and the door. 

“ You there. Jack? ” clicked Alex. Hang on, old 
boy. Keep your nerve.” 

Clenching his teeth and gripping his hands Jack 
regained control of himself, and returned to the in- 
struments. Thanks, Al,” he sent. ‘‘ I was about 
all in, sure enough. But I am OK again now, and 
going to stick it out unless ‘ they,’ or ‘ it,’ or whatever 
it is, lugs me off bodily.” 

That’s the talk,” said Alex encouragingly. ‘‘ I 
knew you ’d make good. Just keep on telling your- 
self there must be some natural explanation somehow, 
and you ’ll win out OK.” 

Yes, that ’s my cue — ^ a natural explanation 
somehow,’ ” Jack repeated to himself the following 
169 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


afternoon as he left the big railroad boarding-house, 
a half mile from the station, and set out for a walk, 
to think things over. 

‘‘ And I believe the starting point is that talk on the 
wire. That certainly is the work of an operator. 

“ Now, why is it heard only at this ofhce? 

Say ! Could it be on the loop ? A cut-off arrange- 
ment on the station loop? 

I dl go down and look into that right now,’’ de- 
clared Jack, and turning about, headed for the station. 

The platforms and the big freight shed were alive 
with the bustle of the freight handlers, loading and 
unloading cars, trundling boxes and bales from one 
part of the platform to another and in and out of the 
big shed; and unnoticed. Jack discovered where the 
wires from the pole passed in under the roof. Enter- 
ing the shed, he proceeded carefully to follow their 
course along the beams toward the telegraph room. 
He had almost reached the partition, and was begin- 
ning to think his conclusion perhaps too hastily drawn, 
when a few feet from the wall, where the light from 
an opposite window struck the roof, he caught two 
unmistakable gleams of copper. With a suppressed 
cry he made his way directly beneath, and at once saw 
that the insulation of both wires of the loop had been 
cut through. 

Right ! I was right ! ” exclaimed Jack jubilantly 
beneath his breath. And I can see in a minute how 
it ’s done. Whoever it is, simply gets up there some- 
how, and ticks one wire against the other — and of 
170 


THE HAUNTED STATION 


course the instruments inside click as they are alter- 
nately cut off and cut on, and the rest of the line is 
not affected! 

Good ! I ’m on the trail. 

But what can be the object of it all? ” 

Jack turned to look about him, and as in answer the 
lettering of a nearby box caught his eye : 

^‘VALUABLE! HANDLE WITH CARE!’’ 

‘"Freight stealing! Could that be it?” 

On reporting for duty that evening Jack called Alex 
on the wire and asked if any freight had recently been 
reported missing from the Midway depot. 

“ No, but I understand some valuable stuff has been 
mysteriously disappearing at Claxton and Eastfield,” 
was the reply. 

Jack was considerably disappointed; but before 
giving up this line of investigation he determined to 
study the freight records of the station, to discover 
whether any freight for the two places mentioned by 
Alex had passed through Midway. A few minutes’ 
search produced the record of a valuable shipment 
of silk to Claxton. A moment later he found an- 
other. 

When presently he found still others, and several to 
Eastfield, he hurried back to the wire and calling Alex 
asked the nature of the goods lost track of at those 
stations, and breathlessly awaited the reply. 

“ I ’ll ask,” said Alex — “ Silverware and silk. 
Mostly silk.” 

Jack uttered a shout. “ Hurrah, Alex,” he whirred, 
171 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


I ’m on the track of our friend the ‘ ghost/ But 
keep mum. 

‘‘ And now the question is/’ he told himself, leaning 
back in his chair, “ how do they work it ? ” 

The answer to the query came very unexpectedly as 
Jack left the station office at daybreak. Strolling 
down the front platform, where several men already 
were at work unloading a car, he inadvertently got in 
the way of a loaded truck. On the sudden cry of the 
truckman he sprang aside, tripped, and fell headlong 
against a large, square packing-case. As he did so, 
he distinctly heard from within a sharp Oh ! ” 

Only with difficulty did Jack avoid crying out, and 
scrambling to his feet, hastened away, that his dis- 
covery might not be suspected by the man in the 
box. 

The whole mystery was now clear. The ghost ” 
was a freight thief, who had himself shipped, in a 
box, to some point which would necessitate his being 
transferred and held over night at the freight junc- 
tion. He played “ ghost ” either to frighten the oper- 
ator away, or to lead to the belief that any noises over- 
heard were caused by ‘‘ spirits,” then overhauled the 
valuable freight in the shed, took what he wanted with 
him into his own box (which supposedly he could open 
and close from the inside), and was shipped away with 
it the following morning. The rifled packages, care- 
fully re-sealed, also went on to their several destina- 
tions, and the blame of the theft was laid elsewhere. 

Jack was not long in deciding upon his next move. 

172 


THE HAUNTED STATION 


Coming down from the boarding-house before the 
sheds had been closed that afternoon, he noted where 
the box containing the unsuspected human freight had 
been placed, and selecting a window at the far end of 
the shed, seized a favorable moment to quietly loosen 
its catch. 

It was near midnight, and Jack was once more the 
sole guardian of the station when he took the next 
step. And despite a certain nervousness, now that the 
exciting moment was at hand, he found considerable 
amusement in carrying it out. 

It was nothing less than making up a dummy imi- 
tation of himself asleep on a cot in a corner of 
the telegraph room — -as a precaution against the 
“ ghost peering within to learn the effect of his 
haunting.’’ 

In making the dummy Jack used a brown fur cap 
for the head, a glimpse of which under an old hat 
looked remarkably like his own brown head. A col- 
lection of old overalls and record books carefully ar- 
ranged formed the body, and his own shoes the feet. 

When over the whole he threw his overcoat, the 
deception was complete. Chuckling at the subterfuge. 
Jack lost no time in slipping forth for the next step 
in his program. 

Tiptoeing down the platform to the window whose 
latch he had loosened, he softly raised it, listened, and 
climbing through, dropped noiselessly to the floor. 
Feeling his way in the darkness amid the bales and 
boxes, he reached a nook behind a piano-case he had 
173 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


previously noted, and settling down, prepared to await 
the appearance of the spectre.’’ 

The wait was not long. Scarcely had he made him- 
self comfortable when from the direction of the big 
packing-case came the muffled sound of a screw-driver. 
Soon there followed a noise as of a board being softly 
shoved aside, then a step on the floor. Simultaneously 
there was the crackle of a match, and peering forth 
Jack momentarily made out a thin, clean-shaven face 
bending over a dark-lantern. But quickly he drew 
back with a start of fright as the man turned and 
came directly toward him. 

A few feet away, however, the intruder halted, and 
again peering cautiously forth Jack discovered the lan- 
tern, closely muffled, on the floor, and beside it the dim 
figure of the man working with his hands at a plank. 
As Jack watched, wondering, the plank came up. 
Laying it aside carefully, the stranger stepped down 
into the opening, recovered the lantern, and disap- 
peared. 

Now what under the sun is he up to? ” exclaimed 
Jack to himself. 

From the platform outside came the sound of foot- 
steps. Jack started, listened a moment, and uttered a 
low cry of triumph. At last he understood. 

“ Well, what a dolt I am,” he laughed. ‘‘ Why 
did n’t I think of that ? 

The fellow is simply out beneath the platform, 
making sounds against the under side of the planking 
— probably with a stick ! ” 

174 





' . .Jf>, • ‘ M* 




■< ■ '• :Ji’W > 




















JACK MADE OUT A THIN, CLEAN-SHAVEN FACE BENDING OVER A 

DARK-LANTERN. 






THE HAUNTED STATION 


Jack was still chuckling delightedly over this simple 
explanation of the mysterious “ walking ’’ when the 
noise ceased, and the light of the lantern returned. 

On reappearing, the unknown dragged after him a 
long pole. As Jack watched, puzzling over its use, 
the ‘‘ spectre ’’ hoisted the pole to his shoulder, cau- 
tiously picked his way amid the freight to the tele- 
graph-room partition, and mounted a large box. 

And then, while Jack fairly shook with internal 
laughter, he laboriously raised the pole, and began 
bumping and scraping it up and down the under side 
of the roof. 

“ Natural explanations! bubbled Jack through his 
handkerchief. And imagine anyone being fright- 
ened at it — beating it for home ! ’’ 

When the man on the box had concluded his second 
‘‘ demonstration,’’ and descended, Jack had cause to 
thank himself for his precaution in leaving the dummy. 
Evidently puzzled at the silence in the operating-room, 
the man placed his eye to the knot-hole in the parti- 
tion, and peered through. Muttering something in 
surprise, he listened closely, and looked again, while 
Jack looked on, shaking, and holding his mouth. Ap- 
parently at last satisfied that the operator ” within 
was asleep at his post, the intruder turned about and 
threw a shaft of light up toward the wires of the loop. 
Expectantly Jack waited. Had he also guessed right 
here? 

But to his disappointment, after a brief debate with 
himself, the '' ghost ” muttered, ‘‘ If he ’s asleep, 
177 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


what’s the use?” And catching up the pole, he re- 
turned it to the hole in the floor, and replaced the 
plank. 

Then, in final confirmation of Jack’s deductions, 
the intruder turned his attention to the packages of 
merchandise about him, speedily selected a box, and 
proceeded to open it. 

For several hours the unsuspecting freight robber 
worked, frequently returning to the crack in the par- 
tition to assure himself that the negligent ‘‘ operator ” 
there was still in the land of dreams, each time to 
Jack’s great amusement. And finally, having secured 
all the booty he could handle, and having carefully 
closed the cases from which it had been taken, he 
moved the plunder into his own box, crept in after; 
again came the squeak of the screw-driver — and the 
robbery was complete. 

At once Jack crept from his place of concealment, 
and back to the window; dropped out, and was off 
on the run for the boarding-house. And twenty 
minutes after he returned with the freight-house 
foreman and several freight hands, armed, and with 
lanterns. 

Entering by the door, he led them directly to the 
robber’s box. 

Sharply the foreman kicked at it, and called, 
** Hello, in there! Your little game is up, my friend! 
Come out ! ” 

There was no response, and he drew his revolver. 

Open up quick, or I ’ll shoot ! ” 

178 


THE HAUNTED STATION 


‘‘ Oh, all right ! All right ! ’’ cried a muffled voice 
hurriedly. 

The next moment the Midway Junction ‘‘ ghost ’’ 
stepped grimly from his box, and stood before them. 

But look here, youngster,’’ ticked the chief des- 
patcher, who some minutes later followed Alex Ward 
on the wire in congratulating Jack on the solution of 
the mystery, don’t you talk too much about this 
business, or first thing you know they ’ll be taking 
you from the telegraph force, and adding you to the 
detective department. We want you ourselves.” 

No fear,” laughed Jack. I might try a matter 
like this once in a while, but I want to work up as 
an operator, not a detective.” 

“ You ’ll work up OK,” declared the chief. 


179 


XII 


IN A BAD FIX, AND OUT 

OOD evening, young man ! ’’ 

VJT With a start Jack turned toward the quietly 
opened door of the telegraph-room to discover a short, 
dark, heavily-bearded man, over whose eyes was pulled 
a soft gray hat. 

“ I suppose you don’t have many visitors at the sta- 
tion at this time of night? ” said the stranger, entering. 

No; but you are quite welcome. Have a chair,” 
responded Jack courteously. 

To the young operator’s surprise, the stranger drew 
the chair immediately before him, and seating him- 
self, leaned forward secretively. My name is 
Watts,” he began, in a low voice, and I ’ve come on 
business. For you are the lad who worked out that 
^ ghost ’ mystery here, and caused the capture of the 
freight robber, aren’t you?” 

Yes,” confirmed Jack, in further wonder. 

‘‘ I thought so. I thought as much. I know a 
clever lad when I see one. And that was one of the 
cleverest bits of detective work I ever heard of,” de- 
clared Mr. Watts, with a winning smile. If the 
railroad detectives had done their work as well, the 


180 


THE STRANGER DREW THE CHAIR IMMEDIATELY BEFORE HIM, AND 
SEATING HIMSELF, LEANED FOKVV'ARD SECRETIVELY. 









THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


whole freight-stealing gang would have been landed. 
As it was none of the rest were caught, were they?'’ 

Instead of being pleased, the man's flattery and in- 
gratiating manner had ruffled Jack, and briefly he 
answered, ‘‘ No, sir." 

‘‘ No. I knew that already. I was one of them 
myself." 

At this startling statement Jack stared. ‘‘ I beg 
your pardon, sir? " he exclaimed. 

‘‘ I was a member of that gang myself," repeated 
Jack's strange caller, again smiling broadly. “ Don't 
you think I look the part? " So saying, he pushed his 
hat back from his face. 

Jack had no doubt of it. The small dark eyes were 
repellent with low cunning and greed. Instinctively 
he half turned to cast a glance toward the door. At 
once the smile disappeared, and the self-confessed 
law-breaker threw open his coat and significantly 
tapped the butt of a revolver. No. You just sit 
still and listen," he ordered sharply; but immediately 
again smiling, added, ‘‘ though there need n't be any- 
thing of this kind between two who are going to be 
good friends. 

Listen. What I called for was this : We want 
another man in the gang in place of Joe Corry — that 
is the man you caught. 

‘‘ And we decided to invite you." 

Jack fairly caught his breath. Why, you must be 
joking, or — " 

‘‘Or crazy, eh? Not quite. 

183 


I was never more 


IN A BAD FIX, AND OUT 

serious in my life. Listen ! ’’ The speaker leaned 
forward earnestly. “ After your spoiling our little 
‘ ghost ' game here the railroad people would never 
look for us starting in again at the same place. Never 
in the world — would they? And likewise, after your 
causing the capture of Corry, they would never in the 
world suspect you of working with us. Do you see 
the point? 

‘‘ And all you would have to do v/ould be to keep 
your ears closed, and not hear any noises out in the 
freight-room at night ? 

“ And for doing that,’’ concluded the law-breaker, 

we will give you a regular salary of $25 a month. 
We ’ll send it by mail, or bank it for you at any bank 
you name, and no one will know where it comes from. 

‘‘ What do you say? ” 

Jack drew back indignantly. Most certainly not,” 
he began. Then suddenly he hesitated. 

As the freight-robber had said, the authorities had 
been unable to obtain a single clue to the whereabouts 
or identity of the remainder of the freight-stealing 
gang. Should he accept the man’s ofifer, came the 
thought, undoubtedly, sooner or later, he would be able 
to bring about the capture of every one of them. 

Immediately following, however, there recurred to 
Jack one of his mother’s warnings — that even the 
appearance of evil is dangerous, always, as well as 
wrong.” 

But this would be quite different. Jack argued to 
himself — to cause the capture of criminals. And 
184 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


what possible danger could there be in it? No one 
^ould believe for an instant that I would go into such 
a thing seriously, he told himself. 

All right, Mr. Watts,’’ he said aloud. I ’ll do 
it.” 

‘‘ Good ! It ’s a go ! ” The freight-stealer spoke 
with satisfaction, and rising, grasped Jack’s hand. ‘‘ I 
told you I knew a clever boy when I saw one — and 
that means a wise one. 

‘‘ Well, that ’s all there is to it, excepting the money 
matter. Where will we send that ? Here ? ” 

Jack responded with an effort. Yes, you may as 
well send it to me here.” 

‘‘ All right. Look for it at the end of the month,” 
said Watts, proceeding to the door. 

Remember, you are dumb. That ’s all. Good 
night.” 

Jack’s sense of honor was not long in convincing 
him that he had made a mistake in entering Into such 
a bargain, even with a law-breaker. A dozen times 
during the days that followed he would have given 
anything to have been able to wipe out the agree- 
ment. 

Unhappily this dissatisfaction with himself was to 
prove but a minor result of the misstep. 

Shortly after he had relieved the day operator at 
the station a week later he was surprised by the ap- 
pearance of one of the road detectives, and with him a 
stranger. 

Good evening, Orr,” said the detective in a pecul- 
185 


IN A BAD FIX, AND OUT 

iar tone. “ Let me make you acquainted with Sheriff 
Bates.’’ 

Jack started, and glanced from one to the other. 
“ Is there anything wrong? ” he asked. 

‘‘ Very slightly. Your little game is up, that ’s all. 
Your older partner has given the thing away, and we 
have just found the watch in your room at the board- 
ing-house,” announced the detective. 

Given the thing away? The watch? Why, what 
do you mean? ” exclaimed Jack in alarm. 

Oh, come ! Watts has squealed, and we found the 
watch hidden, just as he said, in the mattress of your 
bed up at the house.” 

In a flash Jack saw it all. Watts’ offer had been a 
trap! A mere trap to get him into trouble, probably 
in revenge I 

He sprang to his feet. It ’s not true ! It ’s false ! 
Whatever it is, it’s false! I did see Watts, and he 
asked me to go in with them, but I only agreed so as 
to learn who they were, so we could capture them ! ” 
To his utter dismay the two officers only laughed 
drily. 

No, no! That’s quite too thin,” declared the 
detective. Read this.” 

Blankly Jack took the letter, and read: 

‘‘ Chief Detective, 

Middle Western R. R. 

‘‘ Dear Sir : The young night operator at Midway 
Junction has joined the freight-stealing gang that 
186 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Corry belonged to, and if you will look under the mat- 
tress in his room at the railroad boarding-house you 
will find a watch and chain of the lot we stole at Clax- 
ton two weeks ago. I gave it to him last Friday 
night. I came to Midway by the Eastfield freight, 
and when I saw another operator in the station office, 
I started up towards the boarding-house, and met Orr 
coming down. I mention this to show my story is 
all straight. 

I heard he was going to give us away as soon 
as he had got enough loot himself, and claim he only 
went in with us to get us. That is why I am show- 
ing him up. 

Yours truly, 

Watts.^^ 

And the day operator had worked for him that 
Friday evening, while he was at the landlady’s daugh- 
ter’s birthday party! And he had come down to the 
station at about the time the Eastfield night freight 
came in! 

Jack sank back in the chair, completely crushed. 

“Changed your mind, eh?” remarked the sheriff 
sarcastically. 

Jack shook his head, but said nothing. What 
could he say! 

“ If it ’s ‘ false,’ as you claim, how do you explain 
our finding the watch in your room ? ” demanded the 
detective. 

“ I don’t know. Someone must have put it there.” 
187 


IN A BAD FIX, AND OUT 


‘‘ Very likely. It would n't have crept up stairs and 
got under the bed itself. And I suppose you will deny 
also that you saw Watts on the night of the party, 
despite the fact that he could not otherwise have 
known the unusual hour you came down to the station 
that night. Eh ? " 

‘‘ I never saw him after the night he called here," 
affirmed Jack earnestly, but hopelessly. 

Well, you will have to prove it," declared the 
sheriff. And to Jack's unspeakable horror he was 
informed he must be taken into custody. 

Needless to say, the news of Jack's arrest, and of his 
early trial at Eastfield, the county seat, came as a 
tremendous shock to Alex, at Exeter. Of course he 
thoroughly disbelieved in Jack's guilt, despite the net 
of circumstantial evidence which, according to the 
newspapers, had been woven about his friend; and 
morning and afternoon he read and re-read the papers, 
in the hope of something more favorable to Jack de- 
veloping. 

It was through this close reading that Alex finally 
came upon the discovery that was to draw him into the 
case himself, and to have so important a bearing on 
the outcome of the trial. 

Early in the evening preceding the day set for the 
hearing, Alex, before starting work on his wire, was 
studying the paper as usual. For the second time he 
was reading the letter from the man Watts that had 
had such serious results for Jack. 

188 


IN A BAD FIX, AND OUT 


Suddenly as he read Alex started, again read a por- 
tion of the letter, a moment thought deeply, and with 
a cry sprang to his feet and hastened to the chief 
despatcher's desk. 

‘‘ Mr. Allen,’' he said excitedly, in this letter Watts 
says he reached Midway Junction that Friday night 
by the Eastfield freight, and that he met and gave 
Jack Orr the watch after that. 

“ Now I remember distinctly that it was Jack re- 
ported the arrival of the Eastfield freight that night. 
She was twenty minutes late, and I recall asking if 
she was in sight yet, and his reply that she had just 
whistled. 

‘‘ That means Jack was back at the station before 
the time at which Watts claims he met him!” 

Ward, why in the world did n’t you think of 
this before ? ” the chief exclaimed. “ It is the 
most important piece of evidence your friend could 
have. 

‘‘ Call Eastfield right away on the long-distance, and 
get Orr’s lawyer, and tell him.” 

Alex hastily did so, and a few minutes after he 
heard the lawyer’s voice from the distant town, and 
quickly told his story. 

To his surprise the lawyer for a moment remained 
silent, then said slowly, Of course I would like to 
believe that. In fact it would make an invaluable piece 
of evidence — practically conclusive. 

But really now, how could you be sure it was Orr 
you heard? What possible difference can there be 
189 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


between the ticks made over a telegraph wire by one 
distant operator, and those made by another? ” 

“ Why, all the difference in the world, sometimes, 
sir,” declared Jack. “ Any operator would tell you 
that. I would recognize Jack Orr’s sending any- 
where I heard it.” 

But the lawyer at the other end was still incredulous. 
“ Well,” he said at last, “ if the jury was made up of 
telegraph operators, perhaps your claim might go. 
As it is, however — ” 

“ Say, I have it ! ” cried Alex. “ Let me give a 
demonstration right there in court of my ability to 
identify the sending of as many different operators 
as we can get together, including Jack Orr. Could 
you arrange that?” 

The lawyer was interested at last. “ But could you 
really do it ? Are you really that sure ? ” 

“ I am absolutely positive,” declared Alex. 

“ Then you come right ahead,” was the decisive 
response. “ Come down here by the first train in the 
morning, and bring two or three other operators, and 
the necessary instruments. 

“ And if you can prove what you claim, I ’ll guar- 
antee that your friend is clear.” 

“ Hurrah! Then he is clear! ” cried Alex joyously. 

Accompanied by three other operators from the 
Exeter office, and with a set of telegraph instruments 
and a convenient dry-battery, Alex reached the court- 
room at Eastfield at lo o’clock the following morning. 

The trial, which had attracted a crowd that packed 
190 


IN A BAD FIX, AND OUT 


the building to its capacity, already had neared its 
conclusion. Jack’s demeanor, and that of his father, 
who was beside him, quickly informed Alex that mat- 
ters were looking serious for his chum. Confidently 
he waited, however, and at last the court clerk arose 
and called his name. 

The preliminary questions were passed, and Jack’s 
attorney at once proceeded. ‘‘ Now Alex,” he said, 
‘‘ this letter here, which has been put in evidence, de- 
clares that the writer, Watts, went to Midway Junc- 
tion by the Eastfield freight on the Friday night in 
question, and that he then met the defendant coming 
down to the station from his boarding-house, and gave 
him the watch. 

‘‘ Have you anything to say to this? ” 

Yes, sir. Jack Orr was at the telegraph instru- 
ments in the Midway Junction station several minutes 
before the Eastfield freight reached there that night. 
It was he who reported her coming over the wire to 
me at Exeter.” 

The lawyer for the prosecution looked up with sur- 
prise, then smiled in amusement, while Jack and his 
father started, and exchanged glances of new hope. 

‘‘ You are positive it was the defendant you heard 
over the wire?” asked Mr. Brown. 

'' Positive, sir.” 

If necessary could you give a demonstration here 
in court of your ability to identify the defendant’s 
transmitting on a telegraph instrument? ” 

‘‘ Yes, sir, I could.” 


191 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


When the lawyer for the other side arose to cross- 
examine Alex he smiled somewhat derisively. 

“ You are a friend of the defendant, are you not? ’’ 
he asked significantly. 

Yes, sir; and so know his sending over the wire 
unusually well,” responded Alex, cleverly turning the 
point of the question. 

The lawyer shrugged his shoulders, and put the 
next question with sarcasm. ‘'And, now, do you mean 
to stand there and tell this court that the clicks — 
the purely mechanical clicks — made over a telegraph 
wire by an operator miles away will sound different 
to the clicks made by any other operator? ” 

“ I do,” said Alex quietly. “ And I am ready to 
demonstrate it.” 

“ Oh, you are, are you? And how, pray? ” 

“ Three other operators from the Exeter office are 
in the court-room, with a set of instruments and a 
battery. Let them place the instruments on the table 
down there; blindfold me, then have them and Jack 
Orr by turns write something on the key. I ’ll identify 
every one of them before he sends a half-dozen 
words.” 

A wave of surprise, then smiles of incredulity passed 
over the crowded room. 

“ Very well,” agreed the lawyer readily. “ Set up 
the instruments.” 

The three Exeter operators came forward, and the 
prosecutor, producing a handkerchief, himself stepped 
into the witness-box and proceeded to bind Alex’s 
192 


IN A BAD FIX, AND OUT 

eyes. That done, to make doubly sure, he turned 
Alex face to the wall. 

When the lawyer returned to the counsel-table the 
proceedings were momentarily interrupted by a whis- 
pered consultation with his assistant, at the end of 
which, while the spectators wondered, the latter ha- 
stened from the room. 

Curiosity as to the junior counsel’s mission was 
quickly forgotten, however, as the prosecutor then 
called Jack Orr to the table beside the telegraph instru- 
ments, and stood Jack and the three Exeter operators 
in a row before him. 

‘‘ Now,” said he in a low voice, ‘‘ each of you, as 
I touch you, step quietly to the key, and send these 
words : ‘ Do you know who this is ? ’ ” 

A moment the lawyer paused, while spectators, 
judge and jury waited in breathless silence, then 
reaching out, he lightly touched one of the Exeter 
men. 

Do you know who this is ? ” clicked the sounder. 

All eyes turned toward Alex. Without a moment’s 
hesitation he answered, ‘‘ Johnson.” 

The operator nodded, and a flutter passed over the 
court-room. 

‘‘ Huh ! A guess,” declared the prosecutor audibly, 
and still smiling confidently, he touched another of the 
Exeter operators. The instruments repeated the ques- 
tion. 

Bradley,” said Alex promptly. 

The flutter of surprise was repeated. Quickly the 
193 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


prosecutor made as though to touch the third Exeter 
man, then abruptly again touched Bradley. 

Bradley again,’' said Alex. 

A ripple like applause swept over the crowded room. 
With tightening lips the prosecutor turned again 
toward the third Exeter operator. At the moment 
the door opened, and he paused as his assistant reap- 
peared, with him two young ladies. 

The newcomers were operators from the local com- 
mercial telegraph office. 

At once Jack’s lawyer, recognizing the prosecution’s 
purpose, was on his feet in protest. For of course the 
young women were utter strangers to the blindfolded 
boy in the witness-stand. 

The judge promptly motioned him down, however, 
and with a smile of anticipated triumph the prosecutor 
greeted the two local operators, and whispering his in- 
structions to one of them, led her to the telegraph key. 

In a silence that was painful the sounder once more 
rattled out its inquiry, Do you know who this is ? ” 

Alex started, hesitated, made as though to speak, 
again paused, then suddenly cried, That ’s a stran- 
ger! 

“ And it ’s awfully like the light, jumpy sending of 
a girl!” 

A spontaneous cheer broke from the excited specta- 
tors. ‘‘ Silence! Silence! ” shouted the judge. 

It was not necessary to repeat the order, for the dis- 
concerted prosecutor, whirling about, had grasped 
Jack Orr by the arm and thrust him toward the key. 

194 


AND it’s awfully LIKE THE LIGHT, JUMPY SENDING OF A GIRL 





/ 







IN A BAD FIX, AND OUT 


The final test had come. 

Jack himself realized the significance of the moment, 
and for an instant hesitated, trembling. Then deter- 
minedly gripping himself he reached forward, grasped 
the key, and sent, 

Do you know — ” 

'' Orr ! Orr ! That ’s he ! ’’ cried Alex. 

With a shout the entire court-room was on its feet, 
women waving their handkerchiefs and men cheering 
wildly again and again. And equally disregarding the 
etiquette of the court, Alex tore the handkerchief from 
his eyes, and leaping down beside Jack, fell to shaking 
his hand as though he would never let go, while Jack 
vainly sought to express himself, and to keep back the 
tears that came to his eyes. 

Ten minutes later, with order restored. Jack was 
formally declared Not guilty,” and with Alex on one 
side and his father on the other, left the room, free and 
vindicated. 

Well, good-by, my lad,” said Mr. Orr, as he and 
Alex that evening dropped Jack off their returning 
train at Midway Junction. And I suppose it is un- 
necessary to warn you against understandings with 
such men as Watts in the future, no matter for what 
purpose.” 

'' Hardly, Dad,” responded Jack earnestly. No 
more agreements of any kind for me unless they are 
on the levellest kind of level, no matter who they are 
with, or for what purpose.” 


197 


XIII 


PROFESSOR CLICK, MIND READER 

S OME months previously Alex and Jack had ar- 
ranged to take their two weeks’ vacation at the 
same time, and to spend one week at Haddowville, 
Jack’s home, and the other at Bixton. 

The long looked-for Monday had at length arrived, 
early that morning Jack had joined Alex at Exeter, 
and the two boys, aboard the Eastern Mail, were now 
well on their way to Haddowville. 

For some minutes Alex’s part in the animated con- 
versation of the two chums had waned. Presently, 
plucking Jack’s sleeve, he quietly directed his com- 
panion’s attention to the double seat across the aisle 
of the car. 

‘‘ Jack, watch that soldier’s fingers,” he said in a 
low voice. ‘‘ What ’s the matter with him ? ” 

The soldier in question, in the uniform of an infan- 
try regular, sat facing them, beside a stout elderly 
gentleman. Opposite the first soldier was a second, 
in a similar uniform; and sharing the seat with the 
latter, and facing the old gentleman, was a decidedly 
pretty young girl. 

It was the first soldier’s left hand, however, which 
attracted the boys’ particular attention. Resting in his 


198 


PROFESSOR CLICK, MIND READER 

lap, and partly concealed by a newspaper, the hand was 
so doubled that the thumb stood upright. And this 
latter member was bobbing and wagging up and down, 
now slowly, now quickly, in most curious fashion. 

Perhaps it ’s St. Vitus’ dance,” ventured Jack. 

‘‘ But that affects the whole body, or at least the 
whole limb, doesn’t it?” 

Jack, who sat next the window, leaned slightly for- 
ward. “ The other soldier is watching him,” he said. 
‘‘ Maybe the fellow with the wiggling thumb is out 
of his mind, and this one is taking him somewhere. 
He is watching his hand.” 

Silently the boys continued to regard the curious 
proceeding. 

Suddenly the thumb became quiet, there was the 
rattle of a paper in the hands of the second soldier, 
and in turn his thumb became affected with the wag- 
ging. In a moment the boys understood. 

The two soldiers were army signallers, and were 
carrying on a silent conversation, using their thumbs 
as they would a flag. 

Jack and Alex looked at one another and laughed 
softly. “We’re bright, eh?” Alex remarked. 

“ Let us watch when the other starts again — we 
can’t see this chap’s hand well enough — and see if we 
can’t read it,” suggested Jack. “ That one-flag signal 
system is based on the telegraph dot and dash code, 
you know. And it ’s not likely they are speaking of 
anything private — only amusing themselves.” 

The paper opposite again covered the first soldier’s 
199 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


hand, and observing closely, after a few minutes the 
boys were able to interpret the strokes of the wagging 
thumb with ease. They corresponded precisely to the 
strokes of a telegraph sounder, and of course were very 
much slower. 

. . not much. I saw her first,” they read. 

You have three girls at K now. . . . Get out. I ’ll 
tell Maggie O’Rorke, and she ’ll pick your eyes 
out. . . . No, sir. You can have the two old maids 
just back of you, and the fat party with the red 
hair. That ’s your taste anyway. ... If you spoke 
she ’d freeze you so you ’d never thaw out.” 

The two boys exchanged glances, and chuckled in 
amusement. 

Say, look at the gaudy nose on that old chap across 
the aisle,” went on the wagging thumb. Talk about 
danger signals ! They ought to hire him to sit on the 
cowcatcher foggy nights. ... I would n’t like to pay 
for all the paint it took to color it. . . . Plain whiskey, 
I guess. You can see what you are coming to if you 
don’t look out. . . . What ’s the matter with that baby 
back there? Is the woman lynching it, or is it lynch- 
ing the woman? ... It ’s not, either. It’s just like 
your high tenor, singing the Soldier’s Farewell. Only 
better. More in tune. . . . Yes, if they knew what 
we ’d been saying about them there ’d be a riot. I 
would n’t give much for your hair when the two old 
ladies behind got through with it.” 

At this point, unable to resist the temptation, Alex 
nudged Jack, drew a pencil from his pocket, and slyly 
200 


PROFESSOR CLICK, MIND READER 


tapped on the metal of the seat-arm the two letters of 
the telegraph laugh, “ Hi ! 

The soldier opposite started, looked quickly over, 
caught the two boys’ twinkling eyes, and coloring, 
laughed heartily. Promptly then he raised his thumb, 
and wagged, ‘‘ You young rascals! I ’ll have you in 
the guard-house for stealing military information. 
Who are you ? ” 

Alex replied, using his thumb as he had seen the 
soldier do; and the animated exchange of signals 
which followed continued until a whistle from the en- 
gine announced a stop, and the soldier wagged, ‘‘We 
get ofif here. Good-by.” 

“ Glad to have met you,” he said, smiling, as he and 
his companion passed them. 

“ Glad to have met you,” responded the boys heart- 
ily. “ And to have got onto the signalling. It may 
come in useful some day,” Alex added. “ Good day.” 

“ That ’s just what I was thinking myself, Al,” de- 
clared Jack. “ We must practice it.” 

Following the disappearance of the out-going pas- 
sengers, a group of newcomers appeared at the farther 
car door. 

“ Here comes someone I know,” Jack observed. 
“ The big man in front — Burke, a real estate agent.” 

The tall, heavy-featured man passed them and took 
the seat immediately behind. 

“ He did n’t speak to you,” commented Alex. 

“ I ’m glad he did n’t. He ’s no friend ; just knew 
him, I meant,” responded Jack. “ He is a proper 
201 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


shark, they say. I know he practically did a widow 
out of a bit of property just back of ours. 

‘‘ And here is another, same business, from the next 
town. And not much better,” Jack went on, as a 
short, bustling, sharp-featured man appeared. 

The man behind them stood up and called, Hi, 
there, Mitchell ! Here ! ” The newcomer waved his 
hand, came forward quickly, and also dropped into the 
seat at the rear of the two boys. 

Nice pair of hawks,” said Jack. ‘‘ I ’ll bet they 
are hatching up something with a shady side to it. I ’d 
be tempted to listen if I could.” 

As the train was again under way. Jack had no op- 
portunity of overhearing what was being said behind 
them. A few miles farther, however, they came once 
more to a stop, and almost immediately he pricked up 
his ears and nudged Alex. 

. . don’t believe the ignorant dolt knows the real 
value of butter and eggs.” It was the deep voice of 
the bigger man, Burke. He ’s one of those queer 
ducks, without any friends. Lives there all by him- 
self, does n’t read the papers, and only comes to town 
about once a month. No; there’s not one chance in 
ten of his waking up and getting onto it.” 

‘‘ You always were a lucky dog,” declared the other. 
‘‘ If you land it you ought to clear fifty thousand inside 
of five years.” 

A hundred. I intend holding for a cold hundred 
thousand. There has been talk of the town building 
a steam plant already; but water is of course away 
202 


PROFESSOR CLICK, MIND READER 


ahead of that, and they are sure to swing to it. And 
this fall is the only one within ten miles of Haddow- 
ville.’’ 

“ Did n't I tell you! " exclaimed Jack in a whisper. 
‘‘ Doing somebody out of something, whatever it is.’’ 

You might build the plant yourself, and hold the 
town up for whatever you wished,” the second speaker 
went on. 

‘‘ Yes, I could. But I prefer the ready cash. That 
has always been my plan of doing business. No; I 
figure on disposing of the farm just as it stands, either 
to the town, or a corporation, for an even hundred 
thousand.” 

Does that give you a clue. Jack? ” Alex asked. 

Jack shook his head. At the next remark, however, 
he sharply gripped Alex’s arm. 

‘‘ What fall has the stream there ? ” 

Forty feet, and the lake back of it is nearly a mile 
long, and a half mile wide.” 

The rumble of the train again drowned the voices 
of the two men, but Jack had heard enough. ‘‘ It ’s 
old Uncle Joe Potter — his farm,” he said with indig- 
nation. Now I understand. The old farmer appar- 
ently does n’t know its value as an electric power plant 
site, and Burke is trying to get hold of it for a song.” 

Let us put the old man onto him,” Alex immedi- 
ately suggested. 

‘‘ I ’ll talk the matter over with Father, and see 
what he says,” said Jack. 

‘‘ But here comes the good old town,” he broke off 
203 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


with boyish enthusiasm. Look, there is the creek, 
and the old swimming-hole at the bend. I 'll bet I Ve 
been in there a thousand times. And see that spire — 
that 's our church. Our house is just beyond. 

‘‘ Come on, let 's be getting out." 

Catching up their suit-cases, the boys passed down 
the aisle. As they halted at the door, they glanced 
back and saw that their neighbors of the next seat 
were following them. The two men were still talking ; 
and coming to a stand behind the boys, the latter 
caught a further remark from Burke apparently re- 
ferring to the Potter farm deal. 

. . wrote asking him to town this evening," he 
was saying. ‘‘ I '11 give him a bit of a good time 
to-night, and put him up at one of the hotels — and, 
unless something unexpected happens, I '11 guarantee 
I 'll have the thing put through by noon to-morrow." 

‘‘ I hope you do," responded his companion. 

‘‘And I hope you don't! " exclaimed Jack beneath 
his breath. “ And I may do something more than 
hope." 

Twenty minutes later, after a joyous welcome from 
his father and mother, and sister Kate, and the cordial 
reception extended Alex, Jack was seated at his “ old 
corner " of the vine-hidden veranda, recounting the 
conversation they had overheard between the two real 
estate men. Before Mr. Orr had ventured an opinion 
in the matter, however, the subject was temporarily 
thrust aside by the appearance of a party of Kate’s 
204 


PROFESSOR CLICK, MIND READER 


girl friends, evidently much disturbed over something. 
When on running forward Kate's voice was quickly 
added to the excited conversation, Jack followed to 
greet the girls, and learn the cause, and returned with 
the party to the veranda. 

‘‘Now what do you think of this?" he exclaimed 
with tragic horror. “ Professor Robison, the world re- 
nowned mind reader (though I never heard of him 
before), owing to his inability to arrive, will not be 
able to be present at the Girls' Qub song-fight to- 
night ! Did you ever ! " 

“ But it 's no laughing matter," said Kate, following 
the introduction of her friends to Alex. “ He was the 
feature of our program to-night, and I simply can't 
see what we are going to do. Many of the people 
will be coming just to hear him." 

“ Jack, could n't you help us out? " asked one of the 
other girls, half seriously. “ You used to pretend you 
were a phrenologist and all that kind of thing at 
school, I remember." 

“No thanks, Mary. I 've gotten over all that sort 
of foolishness," Jack responded, expanding his chest 
and speaking in a deep vofce. “ I leave that for you 
younger folks." 

A small laughing riot followed this pompous decla- 
ration, and at its conclusion Jack carried Alex off to 
introduce him to his pigeons and chickens, and other 
former treasures of the back yard. 

Some minutes later Jack was dilating on the rich 
under-color of his pet Buff Orpington hen, when Alex, 
205 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

with an apology, abruptly broke in. Say, Jack, what 
kind of a crowd do they have at these Girls’ Club af- 
fairs? Very swell? ” 

Well, about everyone in the church goes, and quite 
a few farmers usually come in from out of town. 
They are as ‘ swell ’ as anything we have here, I guess. 
The Sunday-school room is usually well filled. 
Why?” 

‘‘ I was just wondering whether we could n't help 
the girls out, and have a little fun out of it into the 
bargain. Remember the soldiers on the train? Now, 
why could n’t we,” and therewith Alex briefly sketched 
his plan. Jack promptly tossed the hen back into the 
coop. ‘‘ Great, A1 ! We will ! It will be all kinds of 
a lark. I think there is just the stuff we ’ll need up 
in the garret. 

‘‘Come on; we’ll break the joyful tidings to the 
girls.” 

“ I ’d rather you played the part, though,” said Alex 
as they returned toward the veranda. “ You of 
course know everyone.” 

“ That will make no difference according to this 
plan. If I am in full view, too, that will add to the 
mystery, and help keep up the fun. The folks will be 
breaking their heads to learn who it is on the plat- 
form. No; it’s settled. You are the distinguished 
professor and phreno-what-do-you-call-it.” 

The girls on the veranda were still in dejected de- 
bate as the boys reappeared. “ Ladies, we ’ve got this 
thing fixed for you,” announced Jack. “ We have just 
206 


PROFESSOR CLICK, MIND READER 


wirelessed and engaged that world-famous thought- 
stealer, bumpologist and general seer. Prof. Mahomet 
Click, of Constantinople, to plug up that hole in your 
program to-night. He stated that it would give him 
great pleasure to come to the assistance of such charm- 
ing young women, et cetera, and that he could be 
counted upon.’’ 

‘‘You two mean things!” exclaimed Kate. “We 
saw you with your heads together out there, laughing. 
This is no joking matter at all.” 

“ We are serious,” Jack protested. “ Positively. 
You go ahead and announce that owing to an attack 
of croup, or any other reason, Prof. Robison will not 
be able to appear, but that Prof. Click has kindly 
consented to substitute, and we will look after the 
rest.” 

“ Do you really mean it? ” cried the girls. 

“ On our word as full-grown gentlemen,” responded 
Jack. “ But we ’re not going to explain. 

“ Come on, Alex, until we have further debate with 
the distinguished Turk up in the garret. He probably 
has arrived by this time.” 

Whatever doubts Kate had as to the seriousness of 
the boys’ intentions, they had not only been dissipated 
by noon, but had given place to lively curiosity and 
expectation. Alex and Jack had devoted the entire 
morning to their mysterious preparations; had made 
numerous trips to the church school-room, to the 
stores ; had borrowed needles, thread, mucilage ; had 
turned the library shelves upside-down in a search for 
207 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


certain books; and once, coming on them unawares, 
she had surprised them practising strange incantations 
with their fingers. 

It was late in the afternoon that the serious, and 
what was to prove the most important, feature of the 
evening’s performance developed. On a return trip 
to the dry-goods store Jack drew Alex to a halt with 
an exclamation, and pointed across the street. Burke, 
the real estate man, was walking slowly along with a 
shrivelled-up little old gentleman in dilapidated hat, 
faded garments, and top-boots. 

‘‘ The victim! ” said Jack with deep disgust. Old 
Uncle Joe Potter. 

‘‘ Look at him sporting along with a cigar in his 
mouth — one of Burke’s cigars I ” 

The boys parallelled the oddly assorted pair some 
distance, and it could readily be seen that Burke was 
doing his best to win the old man’s confidence, and 
that the latter already was much impressed with the 
attention and deference shown him by the well-dressed 
agent. 

If we could get the old man alone,” said Alex. 

Not much chance, I am afraid. Now that he has 
him in hand, Burke probably won’t lose sight of him 
until he has closed his bargain. Remember what he 
said just before we left the train, about giving the old 
chap a good time to-night, and putting him up at one 
of the hotels.” 

Alex halted. Give him a good time ! Say, Jack, 
why should n’t he give him a good time at the 
208 


PROFESSOR CLICK, MIND READER 


Girls’ Club entertainment to-night? And then why 
should n’t we — ” 

Jack uttered a shout, and struck Alex enthusiastic- 
ally on the back. Al, you ’ve hit it! You ’ve hit it! 
Bully ! 

Here ! Give me those complimentary tickets Kate 
gave us, and I ’ll go right after them, before they make 
any other arrangements. You wait.” 

Jack was running across the street in a moment, 
and drawing up alongside the two men, he addressed 
them both. ‘‘ Excuse me, Mr. Potter, Mr. Burke — 
but would n’t you like to take in our Girls’ Club enter- 
tainment to-night? It’s going to be really quite 
good — ■ good music, and fun, and a bit of tea 
social in between. 

‘‘ I ’m sure you would enjoy it,” he declared, ad- 
dressing himself to the older man. ‘‘ One of the fea- 
tures of the program is a chap who claims he can read 
people’s thoughts. Of course nobody thinks he can, 
but he will make lots of fun.” 

The old man smiled, and looked at his companion. 

It is up to you, Mr. Potter,” responded Burke 
genially. If you think you would enjoy it, why, I 
would. Your taste is good enough recommendation 
for me.” 

Then let us go,” said the old gentleman, putting 
his hand into his pocket. 

‘‘No; this is my treat,” interposed Burke, grasp^ 
ing the tickets. “ Here you are, lad, and keep the 
change.” 


209 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Thank you, sir,” said Jack. And with difficulty 
restraining a shout, he dashed back toward Alex, wav- 
ing his hat above his head as a token of victory. 

The scene of the Girls’ Club entertainment, the 
church school-room, was filled to the doors when the 
program began that evening. 

I ’m beginning to be anxious about Mr. Burke and 
the old man, though,” observed Jack, who with Alex 
had been standing near the entrance, and remarking 
on the good attendance. A moment after the door 
again opened, and Jack started forward with an ex- 
pression of relief. They had come. 

‘‘ Good evening, Mr. Potter, Mr. Burke,” he said. 
‘‘ Shall I find you a seat ? ” 

Yes, and a good one, now,” requested the real 
estate man. 

I saved two, well to the front,” responded Jack. 

This way, please.” 

Now, Alex,” he said, returning, ‘‘ it ’s up to us.” 

The ‘‘ mind-reading ” number on the program was 
at length reached. The chairman arose. 

I am very sorry to say, ladies and gentlemen,” he 
announced, that Prof. Robison, who is next on the 
program, was unexpectedly not able to keep his en- 
gagement. However, in his place we have secured the 
services of Prof. Mahmoud Click, of Constantinople; 
astrologer, phrenologist, mind-reader, and general all- 
round seer; and I am sure you will find him no less 
instructive and entertaining.” 

Despite this assurance, in the silence which followed 

210 


PROFESSOR CLICK, MIND READER 


there was a distinct note of disappointment, even dis- 
pleasure. For it was obvious that the flowery title of 
the substitute concealed some local amateur. 

Disappointment, however, quickly gave place to a 
flutter of interest when the rear door opened, and pre- 
ceded by Jack Orr, there swept down the aisle a tall, 
venerable figure in flowing robes ; white-bearded, spec- 
tacled, and crowned with a tall conical hat bearing 
strange hieroglyphics. 

When, on Jack stepping aside and taking an unob- 
trusive front seat, the aged professor mounted the 
platform and solemnly surveyed his audience, titters, 
then a burst of laughter swept over the school-room. 
The long yellow robe was covered with grotesque cari- 
catures of cats, frogs, dogs, cranes and turtles, inter- 
spersed with great black question-marks. 

The famed Oriental turned about toward a table, 
and the laughing broke out afresh. In the center of 
his back was a large cat's-head, with wonderfully 
squinting eyes. When the cat slowly closed one dis- 
torted optic in a wink, then smiled, there was an un- 
restrained shout of merriment, and those who were 
not excitedly inquiring of one another the identity of 
the seer,’’ settled back in their seats expectantly. 

Placing the table at the front of the platform, the 
professor again faced the audience, and with dignified 
air, and deep, tragic voice, addressed them. 

‘‘ Ladees and gentlemans. Ze chairman have spoke. 
I am Mahmoud Click, ze great seer, ze great mind- 
read, ze great bump-read, ze great profess. (Laugh- 
211 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


ter.) I am ze seventeen son, of ze seventeen son, of 
ze seventeen son. 

An’ also have I bring for do ze magic pass,” 
thrusting a hand within his robe, ‘‘ Tom ze Terrible, 
ze son of Tom, ze son of Tom.” 

The hand reappeared, and placed on the table a 
tiny black kitten. 

The burst of laughter which greeted this was re- 
newed when the tiny animal began making playful 
passes at a spool on a string which the dignified pro- 
fessor held before it, remarking, ‘‘ See ? Ze magic 
pass. 

‘‘ Now Tom ze Terrible will answer ze question, 
and show he onderstan’ ze Ingleesh,” the magician 
announced, at the same time swinging the spool out of 
the kitten’s sight. 

Tom, how old you are? ” 

The spool was swung back, the kitten began again 
hitting at it, solemnly the professor counted to twenty, 
and whisked the spool away. Twenty year. Cor- 
rec’. 

You see, ladees and gentlemans, ze venerable cat 
he cannot make mistake,” he observed amid laughing 
applause. 

‘‘ Now Tom, tell some odder ting. How old is ze 
chairman ? ” indicating the dignified elderly man at 
the farther end of the platform. Five? Correc’. 

‘‘ You see, he always is right, yes. 

Now, Tom, how old is ze Rev. Mr. Borden? . . . 
Seven? Correc’ again.” 


212 


PROFESSOR CLICK, MIND READER 

When the laughter which followed this demon- 
stration ” had subsided the professor took up a new 
line. Earlier in the evening a certain John Peters, 
one of the town's foppish young gallants, and who 
now occupied a prominent front seat, had widely an- 
nounced the fact that he was present for the express 
purpose of showing the mind-reader up." At him 
accordingly the first quip was directed. 

‘‘ Now Tom, tell ze audience, how many girl 
have Mr. John Wilberforce Peters?" was asked. 
^‘What? None?" For, the spool being held out 
of sight, the kitten gazed before it stolidly, with- 
out raising a foot. Well, how many does he think 
he have ? " 

The spool being returned, the kitten tapped it ten 
times, paused, and struck it eight more, while the re- 
sulting wave of amusement grew, and the over-dressed 
object glowered threateningly at the figure on the 
platform. 

And how many will he marry ? . . . What? Not 
one? Well, well," commented the seer, to further 
hearty laughter. 

Now tell us about some of ze young ladies," the 
professor went on. How many beaux has Miss 
K. O. ? " While Kate Orr bridled indignantly the 
spool was lowered, and the kitten tapped several times 
on one side, several times on the other, then, to an 
outburst of laughing and clapping, sat up and began 
hitting it rapidly with both paws. 

I was unable to keep ze count," announced the 
213 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


seer, but apparently about ze seventy-five. Miss O. 
she is popular wiz ze young men, yes. 

And now, Tom,’' continued the magician, ‘‘ how 
many special lady friend have Mr. Humming (an ex- 
tremely bashful member of the choir) ? . . . Twenty- 
two! And how many young lady are in ze choir? 
Twenty-two ! 

‘‘ Ah ! A strange coincidence,” observed the learned 
professor amid much merriment. 

With similar quips and jokes the mind-reader con- 
tinued, then giving the kitten into the charge of a 
little girl in a front seat, announced : 

Now will I read ze head. Will some small boys 
please come up and bring their heads and bumps? ” 

Coaxing finally brought a half-dozen grinning 
youngsters of eight or ten to the platform. From the 
pocket of the last to respond protruded the unmis- 
takable cover of a dime-novel. Him the professor 
seized first, and having gravely examined his head, 
announced, Ladees and gentlemans, for^this boy I 
predict a great future. Never have I seen such sign 
of literary taste. Yes, he will be great — unless he 
go west to kill ze Indian, and ze Indian see him 
first.” 

On turning to the head of the second boy, the 
phrenologist started, looked more sharply, and slowly 
straightening up, announced, Ladees and gentle- 
mans, I have made ze great discovery. This boy some 
days you will be proud to know. Never have I seen 
such a lovely bump — for eat ze pie ! And any kind 
214 


PROFESSOR CLICK, MIND READER 

of pie you will name. He don’t care. He will eat 
it.” 

And so, to continued laughter, he went on, finding 
remarkable cake-bumps, holiday-bumps, and picnic- 
bumps, and proportionately under-developed school 
and chore-bumps — with the exception of one glowing 
example, which finally proved to have been developed 
by a baseball bat. 

Then came the mind-reading.” Placing a small 
blackboard on the front of the platform, facing the 
audience, the professor seated himself in a chair ten 
feet behind it, and invited someone to step to the board 
and write. 

‘‘ All I ask is,” announced the mind-reader, please 
write not too fast, and fix ze mind on what you write. 
And by ze thought-wave will I tell it, letter by letter.” 

The first to respond wrote the name of his father, 
a doctor. Expecting only some humorous guess as to 
what was written, the audience was somewhat sur- 
prised when the professor spelled out the name cor- 
rectly, only adding the humorous touch of ‘‘ mud,” 
hastily corrected to M. D.” As others followed 
with figures, and more difficult names and words, the 
interest of the audience began to take on a new tone. 

The last of the first party which had stepped for- 
ward to write was the over-dressed young man Alex 
had poked some of his fun at, and who was bent on 
“ showing him up.” 

He wrote : ‘‘ You are a faker.” 

Explain to ze audience how I do it, zen, Mr. 

215 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Peters/' retorted the professor. In some confusion 
Peters sought his seat, and the minister approached 
the board. 

The interest of the audience had now become seri- 
ous and silent. Even Kate Orr, though knowing there 
was trickery somewhere, was nonplussed. For Jack, 
in the front row, appeared as immovable, and as 
frankly interested as those about him. Loosely folded 
in his lap was a newspaper which for a moment at- 
tracted Kate's suspicious eye; but watching closely, 
she saw not the hint of a movement that might have 
been a signal. 

The minister's first word was the name Hosea. 
This was promptly called off, and the writer went on 
with others, gradually more difficult. Finally, in 
rapid succession, one under the other, he wrote 
‘‘ZEDEKIAH, AHOLIBAH, NEBUCHADNEZ- 
ZAR." As readily the figure on the platform an- 
nounced them, and the reverend gentleman turned 
away with an expression frankly puzzled. 

Pardon me, Mr. Professor, but since this is genu- 
ine mind-reading, of course you could read just as 
well with your eyes blindfolded, could you not? 
Would you kindly give a demonstration that way? " 

It was Peters. There was immediate clapping at 
the suggestion, and calls of Yes, yes! Do it blind- 
folded!" 

In alarm Kate, from her seat, gazed toward Jack. 
To her surprise he was one of the most energetic in 
clapping the proposal. 


216 


PROFESSOR CLICK, MIND READER 

The professor himself, however, was plainly discon- 
certed, to the particular delight of Peters and his circle 
of friends, who, as the mind-reader continued to hesi- 
tate, clapped more and more loudly. 

Finally the seer arose. ‘‘ Well, ladees and gentle- 
mans, if you wish, certainly. Though I do read just 
as good with my eyes open.'’ 

This negative statement brought further derisive 
laughter and clapping from Peters and his friends, 
which was added to when the professor continued. 

Will some young lady be kind enough to lend me 
ze handkerchief — ze tiny leetle one with plenty holes 
all round?" 

Peters was again on his feet. Here is one ! " 

It was a large, dark neckerchief, obviously brought 
for this very purpose. As Peters stepped forward and 
mounted the platform the professor removed his spec- 
tacles with apparent reluctance. Broadly smiling, Pe- 
ters threw the folded kerchief over the mind-reader's 
eyes, saw that it fitted snugly, and tied it. ‘‘ Now 
we 've got you, Mr. Smart, of Constantinople," he 
whispered derisively. 

Have ze good time and laugh while you may," 
responded the professor, and raising his voice he asked, 
“Will someone kindly bring ze glass water? Mind- 
reading, it is dry." 

It was Jack started to his feet, passed down the 
room, and returned with the desired water. Watch- 
ing, Kate expected to see a consultation between the 
two boys, as to some way out of the apparent difficulty. 
217 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Jack, however, merely placed the glass in the extended 
hand, and received it back without the exchange of 
a syllable. Not only that, he returned to the back of 
the hall, and instead of resuming his seat at the front, 
mounted to a window ledge at the rear. 

Well, I am ready,’' announced the professor. 

And I make ze suggestion that Mr. Peters himself 
write ze first.” 

The latter was speedily at the board. As he wrote, 
a silence fell. Previously the professor had called off 
each letter as written. This time there was no re- 
sponse. With a smile that gradually broadened to a 
laugh Peters finished an odd Indian name, and asked, 
‘‘The thought-waves have n’t gone astray already, have 
they, Mr. Professor? Haven’t been frightened off 
by a mere handkerchief, surely? ” 

“ I was wondering how to pronounce it,” came the 
quiet response. “ I ’ll spell it instead. It is, 

“ ‘ M U S Q U O D O B O I T.’” 

Peters stared blankly. Not more blankly than the 
majority of the audience, however, including Kate her- 
self. She turned toward Jack. He appeared as sur- 
prised as Peters. Indeed, if there was anything sus- 
picious, it was that Jack appeared a trifle over-aston- 
ished. 

As the burst of applause which followed the first 
surprise was succeeded by a wave of laughter, Kate 
turned back to discover Peters, very red in the face, 
drawing on the board a picture. As she looked a 
grotesquely ugly face took shape. The face com- 
218 


PROFESSOR CLICK, MIND READER 


plated, there was a renewed burst of merriment when 
Peters topped it with a fooFs-cap, and on that sketched 
rough hieroglyphics. 

Now whose picture have I drawn? he demanded 
loudly. 

Well, you tried to draw mine,’’ responded the pro- 
fessor, dropping into normal English, ‘‘ but as the 
dunce’s tie is far up the back of his collar, I leave the 
audience to decide whose it is.” 

At this there were shouts and shrieks of laughter, 
and Peters, hurriedly feeling, and finding his own tie 
far out of place, threw the chalk to the floor and 
dashed back to his seat amid a perfect bedlam of 
hilarity. 

The uproar soon subsided, however, for not one in 
the crowded room but was now thoroughly wonder- 
struck at the demonstration. Some of the older people 
began to step forward, writing the most difficult 
names they could think of, meaningless words, groups 
of figures. A teacher chalked a proposition in algebra. 
Without error all were called out promptly. 

The climax was reached when one of the church 
elders advanced to the board, and while writing, fixed 
his eyes on something in his half-opened hand. 

Without hesitation the blindfolded unknown an- 
nounced, ‘‘ Mr. Storey is writing the name of one of 
the Apostles, but is thinking of a penknife.” 

The clapping which followed was scattered and 
brief. It ’s simply uncanny,” exclaimed one of 
Kate’s neighbors. Kate, glancing back toward Jack, 
219 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


shook her head. Up there, in full view, she could not 
possibly see how he could have anything to do with 
it. 

At this point the minister again stepped forward. 

Will you answer a few questions? ’’ he scrawled. 

With pleasure, Mr. Borden.” 

‘‘ How old am I?” 

Forty-nine next September.” 

The minister ran his fingers through his hair, per- 
plexedly. 

‘‘ How old is Mrs. Borden? ” 

There was a slight pause, then in gallant tones came 
the answer, Twenty- two.” 

Amid a renewal of laughter, and much clapping 
from the ladies, the minister was about to turn away, 
when on second thought he turned back, and wrote: 

Name the twelve Apostles.” 

For the first time the learned seer displayed signs 
of uneasiness. After some stumbling, however, he 
completed the list. 

With a twinkle in his eyes, the preacher inscribed 
a second question, ‘‘ Name Joshua’s captains.” 

Prof. Click cleared his throat, ran his fingers down 
his beard, moved uneasily in his chair, and at length, 
while a smile began to spread over the room, shook 
his head. 

But I am thinking of them — hard,” declared the 
minister, chuckling. 

The professor was again about to shake his head, 
when suddenly he paused, then replied boldly, Shem, 
220 


PROFESSOR CLICK, MIND READER 


Ham, Hezekiah, Hittite, P’eter, Goliath, Solomon and 
Pharaoh/’ 

It was during the shouts of merriment following 
this ridiculous response that Kate’s mystification began 
to dissolve. Glancing again toward her brother, she 
saw that, despite a show of laughing, there was an 
uneasiness in his face similar to that shown by the 
professor. And when presently she saw him cast a 
covertly longing eye toward a pile of Bibles in the 
next window, she turned back to the platform, silently 
laughing. She thought she had discovered the source 
of the “ thought waves.” 

The success of the brazenly invented answer to the 
last question, meantime, had quite restored the pro- 
fessor’s confidence, and as the minister went on, he 
continued to respond in the same ridiculous fashion, 
claiming, on the minister’s protest, that he was only 
reading the thought-waves as they came to him. And 
finally the pastor laughingly gave it up. 

At the next, and final, demonstration ” mystifica- 
tion of another kind came to the observant Kate. Ris- 
ing to his feet, the mind-reader announced that he 
would now inform a few of the stronger thinkers ” 
before him the subject of their thoughts; and both in 
his manner and tone Kate noted an unmistakable nerv- 
ousness. Glancing toward Jack, she saw that his face 
also was grave, and with a stirring of apprehension of 
she knew not what, she waited. 

The first thought which reaches me,” began the 
professor, is from Miss Mary Andrews. Miss An- 
221 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


drews thinks her pretty toque is on straight. It ’s not 
quite. I think one pin is coming out.’’ 

Following this laughingly applauded ‘‘ reading,” the 
speaker informed Miss James that she was thinking 
her lace collar was not loose behind. Which was 
quite correct.” As also was Mr. Storey’s impression 
that there was not a long blond hair on his coat collar. 
‘‘ There was not.” 

Then Kate distinctly saw the speaker take a deep 
breath. 

‘‘ Mr. Joseph Potter is a strong thinker,” he pro- 
ceeded. I read several thoughts from Mr. Potter.” 

The old farmer, to whom the whole performance 
had appeared as nothing less than magic, leaned out 
into the aisle, breathless and staring. 

It seems to me, Mr. Potter,” the mind-reader 
went on, it seems to me you are thinking about some 
important business deal — some big deal concerning 
land.” 

The old man’s mouth opened. 

Also it seems to me that this land may be worth 
a great deal more than — ” 

There was an exclamation, a commotion, and 
Burke, the real estate man, was on his feet. A moment 
he stood staring, as though doubting his ears, then 
catching up his hat he said in a loud voice, Come, 
Mr. Potter, we must go. That other engagement, you 
know — I had forgotten it.” 

The old man sprang up, and brushed Burke aside. 
‘‘ Go on ! Go on ! ” he cried toward the figure on the 
222 


PROFESSOR CLICK, MIND READER 


platform. The startled audience gazed from one to 
another. Several arose. 

‘‘ It seems to me,” resumed Alex quietly, “ that 
there is a waterfall on your farm, and that — ” 

Hold on there ! Hold on ! ” The words came in 
a shout, and springing into the aisle, Burke strode 
toward the platform, purple with rage. ‘‘ What do 
you mean? What are you doing? 

‘‘Who is this man?” he demanded at the top of 
his lungs. “ I demand to know ! What does he mean 
by—?” 

Swiftly hobbling down the aisle behind him, the old 
man attempted to pass. Roughly Burke pushed him 
back. 

The minister stepped forward. “ Mr. Burke, what 
do you mean ? ” 

“ What does this man here mean by — by — ” 

“Yes, by what, Mr. Burke?” 

“ By making reflections against me,” shouted Burke. 
“ I demand an explanation ! I — ” 

“ But my dear sir, I am sure nothing was said — ” 

The old man dodged by, ran to the edge of the 
platform, and cried in a thin, high voice, “ Do you 
mean my farm ? My farm that Burke wants to 
buy?” 

There was a momentary silence, during which here 
and there could be heard long in-drawn gasps. Then 
abruptly Alex tore the bandage from his eyes, swept 
off the hat and beard, and stepped to the front. 

“ There need be no further mystery about this,” he 
223 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

declared in a grimly steady voice. ‘‘ On the train this 
morning Jack Orr and I accidentally overheard — 

From Burke came a ‘scream, he sprang forward with 
raised fists, faltered, and suddenly whirling about, 
dashed down the aisle for the door, and out. And in 
the breathless silence which followed Alex completed 
his explanation. 

As the old man climbed the platform steps and 
extended a shaking hand, the applause that burst from 
every corner of the room fairly rattled the windows; 
and as the uproar continued, and Alex sprang hastily 
to the floor, he was surrounded by a jostling, enthusi- 
astic crowd of strangers from whom in vain he sought 
to escape. 

Some minutes later, enjoying tea and cake in a 
circle which included the minister, the latter smilingly 
remarked, But you have n’t yet explained the rest of 
the mysterious doings. Master Alex. Are n’t you go- 
ing to enlighten us all round? Prefer to keep it a 
secret, eh? Well, if you will promise us another 
‘ exposition ’ I ’m sure we will agree not to press you,” 
declared the minister, heartily. 

And as a matter of fact, save Kate, no one has yet 
solved the mystery, not even the janitor, although on 
cutting the grass a few days later he picked up beneath 
one of the school-room windows an unaccountable 
piece of fine copper wire. 


224 


XIV 


THE LAST OF THE FREIGHT THIEVES 

I’m not after you this time,” laughingly 
responded Detective Boyle to Jack’s half seri- 
ous inquiry on recognizing his visitor at the station 
one evening a month later as the road detective who 
on the previous memorable occasion had called in 
company with the sheriflf. ‘‘ Instead, I want your 
assistance. 

Do you know,” he asked, seating himself, that 
your friends the freight thieves are operating again 
on the division? ” 

No! ” said Jack in surprise. 

‘‘ They are. And they have evolved some scheme 
that is more baffling even than the ‘ haunting ’ trick 
you spoiled for them here last spring. Every week 
they are getting away with valuable stuff from one 
of the night freights between Claxton and Eastfield, 
while the train is actually en route, apparently. That 
sounds incredible, I know, but it is the only possible 
conclusion to come to, since the train does not stop 
between those places, and I made sure the goods each 
time were aboard when it left Claxton.” 

Jack whistled. That does look a problem, does n’t 
it! But where do I come in, Mr. Boyle? ” 

** Last evening, while thinking the matter over, the 
225 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


trick the thieves used here at the Junction recurred to 
me — the man shipped in a box. It came to me : 
Why could n’t that same dodge be played back against 
them in this case? ” 

Oh, I see ! Have yourself shipped in a box, and 
‘ stolen ’ by them! Clever idea,” exclaimed Jack. 

'' Not so bad I think, myself. Well, in the country 
between Claxton and Eastfield, where it is my theory 
the gang has its headquarters, there are no telephone 
or telegraph lines, and it struck me it would be a good 
plan to take someone along with me who in case of 
things going wrong could make his way back to the 
railroad, and cut in on the wire and call for help. And 
naturally you were the first one I thought of. Do 
you want the job? ” asked the detective. 

I ’d jump at the chance,” Jack agreed eagerly. 

It ’d be more fun than enough. 

But, Mr. Boyle, how do you know that the boxes 
are taken to the freight thieves’ headquarters, un- 
opened, and not broken into right at the railroad ? ” 

‘‘ I figure that out from the number and size of the 
packages they have taken each time — just a good load 
for a light wagon. And anyway you can see that that 
would be their safest plan. If they broke up boxes 
near the track they would leave clues that would be 
sure to be found sooner or later, and put us on their 
trail. 

And through a friend in the wholesale dry-goods 
business at Claxton, who I ’ll see down there to-night,” 
the detective went on, I can make practically sure 
226 


THE LAST OF THE FREIGHT THIEVES 


of our being ‘ stolen ’ together. The thieves have 
shown a partiality for his goods; and by having our 
boxes attractively labelled ' SILK/ and placed just 
within the car door, there will be little chance of the 
robbers passing us by.'’ 

“ My plan is to bring it off to-morrow night. 
Would that suit you ? " concluded the detective. 

‘‘ Yes, sir. That is, if I can get away. For it will 
take all night, I suppose? ” 

Yes. There will be no trouble about your getting 
off, though. I spoke to Allen before I came down," 
said Boyle, rising. “ All right, it is arranged. You 
take the five-thirty down to-morrow evening, with 
the necessary instruments, and I 'll be at the station 
to meet you. Good night." 

As Boyle had promised, Jack had no difficulty in 
arranging to be off duty the following night, and early 
that evening he alighted from the train at Claxton, to 
find the railroad detective awaiting him. 

‘‘The instruments, eh?" queried Boyle, indicating 
a parcel under Jack 's arm as they left the station. 
“Yes, sir; and I have some wire and a file in my 
pocket." 

“ That 's the ticket. And everything here is ar- 
ranged nicely. We will head for the warehouse at 
once." 

“ Here 's the other ‘ bolt of silk,' Mr. Brooke," the 
detective announced a few minutes later as they en- 
tered the office adjoining a large brick building. “ All 
ready for us ? " 


227 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Hn ! He 's a pretty small ‘ bolt/ is n't he? " com- 
mented the merchant, eyeing Jack with some sur- 
prise. 

‘‘ A trifle ; but he makes up for size in quality," 
declared the detective, while Jack blushed. He is the 
youngster who solved the ‘ ghost ' riddle and spoiled 
this same gang's game at Midway Junction." 

The merchant warmly shook Jack's hand. ‘‘ I 'm 
glad to meet you, my boy," he said. “ After that, I 
can readily believe what Boyle says. 

‘‘ Yes, I am all ready. This way, please," he re- 
quested. 

Following the speaker. Jack and the detective found 
themselves in a large shipping-room. As they entered, 
a workman with a pot and ink-brush in his hand was 
surveying lettering he had just completed on a good- 
sized packing-case. 

Here are the ‘ goods,' Judson," announced the 
merchant. 

‘‘ All ready, sir," the workman responded, eyeing 
Jack and the detective curiously. 

‘‘Did you substitute boards with knot-holes?'" Mr. 
Brooke asked. 

“ Yes, sir. And this is the door," said the man, 
indicating two wide boards at one end. “ I used both 
wooden buttons and screw-hooks on the inside, as you 
suggested." 

“ Good." 

The detective examined the box. “ You 've made 
a good job of it," he commented. 

228 


THE LAST OF THE FREIGHT THIEVES 


I suppose this is the boy’s ? ” he added, turning to 
a smaller box, on which also were the words : ‘‘ SILK 
— VALUABLE!” 

With lively interest Jack examined the case. 

‘‘ Get in and let us see how it fits,” suggested the 
merchant. Jack did so. 

Fine,” he announced. ‘‘ I could ride all night in 
it, easily — either sitting, or lying down curled up on 
my side.” 

Detective Boyle glanced at his watch. You may 
as well stay right there. Jack,” he said. We will 
start just as soon as the wagon is ready.” 

‘‘ It ’s ready now. Judson, go and bring the dray 
around,” the merchant directed. 

As the man left, the detective produced and handed 
Jack a small pocket revolver. Here, take this. Jack,” 
said he. ‘‘ I hope you ’ll not have to use it, but we 
must take all precautions. 

Now to box you in.” So saying the detective 
fitted the ‘‘ door ” of Jack’s box into place, and Jack 
on the inside secured it with the hooks and wooden 
buttons, and announced O K.” The detective then 
entered his own box, and with the merchant’s assist- 
ance closed the opening. As he tested it there was a 
rattle of wheels without, and the big door rumbled 
open. 

A few minutes later the two boxes of ‘‘ valuable 
silk ” had been slid out onto the truck, and the first 
stage of the strange journey had begun. 

As planned, it was dusk when the two boxes 
229 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


reached the freight depot. The station agent him- 
self met them. “ Everything O K, Boyle? ” he whis- 
pered. 

O K. Place us right before the door, with the let- 
tering out,’’ the detective directed. The agent did as 
requested, and with a final Good luck ! ” closed and 
sealed the car door just as the clanging of a bell an- 
nounced the approach of an engine. A crash and a 
jar told the two unsuspected travelers that their car 
had been coupled, there was a whistle, a rumble, a 
clanking over switch-points — and they were on their 
way. 

The wheels had been drumming over the rail- joints 
for perhaps half an hour, and the disappearance of the 
light which had filtered through the car door had an- 
nounced the fall of darkness, when there came a 
screeching of brakes. 

Where do you suppose we are now, Mr. Boyle? ” 
asked Jack from his box. 

It ’s the grade just north of Axford Road. When 
we hit the up-grade two miles beyond we may begin 
to expect something. It was along there I figured that 
the — 

What ’s that?” 

Both listened. One of the brakemen, isn’t it?” 
suggested Jack. 

What is he doing down on the edge of the car 
roof?” 

• The next sound was of something slapping against 
the car door. 


230 


THE LAST OF THE FREIGHT THIEVES 


Suddenly the detective gave vent to a cry that was 
barely suppressed. 

“ Jack, I Ve got it! I Ve got it at last! ’’ he whis- 
pered excitedly. 

The freight thieves have bought up one of the 
brakemen! He lets himself down to the car door by 
a rope, opens it, and throws the stufif out ! ’’ 

Jack’s exclamation of delight at this final revelation 
of the heart of the mystery was followed by one of 
consternation. ‘‘ But won’t we get an awful shaking 
up if we ’re pitched ofiF, going at full speed? ” he said 
in alarm. 

‘‘ We may. We ’ll have to take it. It ’s all in the 
game you know,” declared Boyle grimly. Sit tight 
and brace hard, and it ’ll not be so bad, though. 

‘‘Sh! Here he is!” 

There was a sound of feet scraping against the car 
door, a rattle as the seal was broken and the clasp 
freed, then a rumble and the sudden full roar of the 
train told the two in the boxes that the door had been 
opened. 

Swinging within, the intruder closed the door be- 
hind him, and lit a match. Peering from a knot-hole. 
Jack saw that the detective’s guess was correct. It 
was a brakeman. 

As Jack watched, the man produced and lit a dark- 
lantern, and turned it on the cases before him. Jack 
held his breath as the light streamed through the cracks 
of his own box. 

Just to order,” muttered the brakeman audibly. 

231 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

And the bigger one, too. I ’ll not have to haul any 
out.” 

Then, to Jack’s momentary alarm, then amusement, 
the man seated himself on the box, above him. 

Presently, as Jack was wondering what the train- 
man was waiting for, from the distant engine came 
the two long and two short toots for a crossing, and 
the man started to his feet. With his eye to the knot- 
hole Jack watched. 

Again came a whistle, and the creaking of brakes. 
Immediately the brakeman slid the car door back a 
few inches, flashed his lantern four times, muffled it, 
and ran the door open its full width. 

The critical moment had come. Gathering himself 
together. Jack braced with knees and elbows. The 
trainman seized the box, swung it to the door, and 
tipped it forward. The next instant Jack felt himself 
hurled out into the darkness. 

For one terrible moment he felt himself hurtling 
through space. Then came a crackle of branches, the 
box whirled over and over, again plunged downward, 
and brought up with a crash. 

A brief space Jack lay dazed, in a heap, head down. 
But he had been only slightly stunned, and recovering, 
he righted himself, and found with satisfaction that he 
had suffered no more than a bruise of the scalp and 
an elbow. 

He had not long to speculate on his whereabouts. 
From near at hand came a sound of breaking twigs, 
and a voice. 


232 


THE LAST OF THE FREIGHT THIEVES 


‘‘ Here 's one/’ it said. 

Only with difficulty did Jack avoid betraying him- 
self. It was the voice of the man Watts ” ! 

“ What is it? ” inquired a second voice. 

Through a crack a light appeared. ‘‘ Silk,” an- 
nounced Watts. 

‘‘ A good weight, too,” he added, tipping the box. 
‘‘ Catch hold.” 

The packing-case was caught up; and rocked and 
jolted. Jack felt himself carried for what he judged 
a full quarter-mile. As the men slowed up a gleam of 
moonlight showed through the knot-hole, and peering 
forth he discovered a tree-lined road, and a two-horse 
wagon. 

Sliding the box into the rear of the wagon, and well 
to the front, the men disappeared. The wait that 
followed was to Jack the most trying experience 
of the evening. Had the detective safely landed? 
Was there not a possibility of the larger box hav- 
ing been shattered ? Or sufficiently broken to 
reveal its true contents, and disclose the plot to 
the freight-robbers? And what then would be his 
fate? 

These and many other disquieting possibilities 
passed through Jack’s mind, causing him several times 
as the minutes went by to finger the hooks and buttons 
which would permit of his escape. Finally snapping 
twigs, then heavy, stumbling footfalls allayed his anx- 
iety, and the two men reappeared, staggering under the 
box containing the officer. 

235 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


With difficulty the unsuspecting thieves raised the 
heavy packing-case to the tail-board of the wagon. 

“ It won’t go in,” said Watts’ companion. 

‘‘ Push this way a little,” Watts directed. 

I can’t — Look out! ” There was a scramble, and 
the box crashed to the ground. At the same moment 
came a muffled exclamation, and Jack caught his 
breath. Was it the detective? If so, had the others 
overheard it? 

With relief, however, he heard Watts, who appar- 
ently was the chief of the gang, call his companion 
a mule, and order him to catch hold again. The box 
this time was successfully slid aboard; and at once 
the two men climbed to the seat, and the wagon rum- 
bled off. 

As they rattled along over a badly-kept road Jack 
gave as close attention to the passing scenery as his 
limited view permitted, in order that he might be able 
to find his way back to the railroad if it should prove 
necessary. This did not promise to be difficult. On 
either side the dim p oonlight showed an unbroken 
succession of trees, nd also that the robbers were 
continuing in one ( irection — apparently due south. 

For what seemed at least two miles they proceeded. 
Then appeared a small clearing, and with a quicken- 
ing of the pulse Jack felt the wagon slow up and turn 
in. They were at their destination. 

A forbiddingly suitable place for its purpose it was. 
Standing out darkly on the crest of a rise two hundred 
yards back, was a low shanty-like house, in which ap- 
236 


THE LAST OF THE FREIGHT THIEVES 


peared a single gleam of light. Between, to the road, 
stretched a desolate moonlit prospect of stumps, de- 
caying logs and brush-piles. On either side the woods 
formed a towering wall of blackness. 

Rocking and pitching, the wagon made its way up 
a rutty, corkscrew lane. They reached the house, and 
the door opened, and a tall, unpleasant-looking woman 
appeared and greeted the men. 

Good luck, eh?’’ she remarked briefly. 

‘‘Sure. Don’t we always have good luck?” re- 
sponded Watts. “ Is supper ready?” 

“ Yes. You-uns better come in before you opens 
them boxes,” said the woman. 

“ All right.” 

Passing on, the wagon came at last to a halt before 
a good-sized barn. The two men leaped to the ground, 
and while one of them opened the large side doors the 
other proceeded to back the wagon to it. 

As the two freight thieves then unhooked, and led 
their horses to the stable, there came to Jack’s ears 
a welcome tapping. “ Are you all right, lad ? ” whis- 
pered the detective. 

“ Yes, O K, sir, though a bit nervous,” Jack ac- 
knowledged. 

“ Keep cool and we ’ll soon have them where we 
want them. As they are going in to supper first we ’ll 
not leave the boxes till then. That ’ll give us just the 
opportunity we want to look around and arrange 
things nicely. 

“ Sh ! Here they come ! ” 

237 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


“ Catch hold/’ said Watts. Jack heard the detec- 
tive’s box slide out, an ‘‘ Up ! ” from Watts, the stag- 
gering steps of the men across the barn floor, and a 
thud as the box was dropped. 

At what then immediately followed Jack for a 
moment doubted his senses. It was the voice of Watts 
saying quietly and coldly, ‘‘ Now my clever friend in 
the box, kindly come out ! ” 

They had heard Boyle’s exclamation when the box 
had fallen ! 

Scarcely breathing. Jack listened. Would the de- 
tective give himself up without a — 

There was a muffled report, instantly a second, 
louder, then silence. 

‘‘ Will you come out now? ” demanded Watts. 

To Jack’s horror there was no response. Watts re- 
peated the order, then called on his companion for an 
axe, and there followed the sound of blows and splin- 
tering wood. 

‘‘ Now haul him out.” 

Terror-stricken, Jack listened. Suddenly there 
came the sound of a scramble, then of a terrific strug- 
gle. 

The detective was all right! It had been only a 
ruse! Uttering a suppressed hurrah Jack began hur- 
riedly undoing the fastenings of his door, to get out to 
the detective’s assistance. Before he had opened it, 
however, there was the sound of a heavy fall, and a 
triumphant shout from Watts. Promptly Jack paused, 
debated a moment, and restored the fastenings. He 
238 


THE LAST OF THE FREIGHT THIEVES 


would wait. Perhaps they would bind Boyle and leave 
him in the barn. 

A moment later Jack regretted his decision. 
Through the knot-hole he saw the detective led by, his 
arms bound behind him, and one of the freight-robbers 
on either side. 

The voices and footsteps died away in the direction 
of the house, and Jack fell to wondering what he 
should do. Before he had decided he heard the voices 
of the men returning. Apprehensively he waited. 
Had they any suspicion of his presence in the second 
packing-case ? 

While he held his breath and grimly clutched his 
revolver, they slid his box to the rear of the wagon, 
lifted it out, and deposited it on the barn floor. 

Going to have a look at it ? Make sure it has n’t 
some live stock in it too?” inquired the second 
man. 

Jack’s heart stood still. 

‘‘No; it’s all right,” declared Watts confidently. 
“ We ’ll have supper first.” And to Jack’s unspeak- 
able relief they passed out and closed the barn door. 
Listening until from the house had come the slamming 
of a door. Jack once more freed the fastenings within 
the box, slipped the board aside, again listened a mo- 
ment, and crawled forth. 

As he stood stretching his cramped limbs, he glanced 
about. A tier of what looked like bolts of cloth in 
the moonlight beneath one of the barn windows caught 
his eye. He stepped over. 

239 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


It was silk — silk such as he had seen in the ware- 
house at Claxton! 

Instantly there came to Jack a startling suggestion. 
As quickly he decided to act upon it. “ They may 
never ^ catch on/ ’’ he told himself delightedly, and 
in any case it will give me a good start back for the 
railroad, for help.’’ 

Glancing from the barn window, to make sure all 
was quiet in the direction of the house, he drew his 
box into the moonlight, took out the parcel containing 
the telegraph instruments, and proceeded to remove 
the hooks and buttons, and all other signs of the 
‘‘ door.” Then quickly he filled the box with bolts of 
silk from the pile beneath the window. 

That done, he found a hammer and nails, and muf- 
fling the hammer with his handkerchief, as quietly 
as possible nailed the boards into place. Trium- 
phantly he slid the box to its former position on the 
floor. 

‘‘ I think that will fool you, Mr. Watts,” he said 
with a smile, and catching up the telegraph instruments 
he turned to the door. 

On the threshold he started back. The two men, 
and two others, were returning from the house. 

In alarm Jack looked about for a way of escape. 
Across the barn was a smaller door. He ran for it 
on tiptoe, darted through, and found himself in the 
stable. Passing quietly on to the outer door, which 
the cracks and moonlight revealed, he waited until the 
four men had entered the main barn, then slipped 
240 



HE SAW THE DETECTIVE LED BY, HIS ARMS BOUND BEHIND HIM 





















THE LAST OF THE FREIGHT THIEVES 


forth, and keeping in the shadows, ran toward the 
house. 

A beam of light streamed from one of the rear 
windows. Jack made for it, and cautiously approach- 
ing, peered within. The woman he had seen at the 
door was at a table, washing dishes, her back toward 
him. And just beyond, facing him, and bound hand 
and foot in a big arm-chair, was the detective. 

For some minutes Jack tried in vain to attract the 
officer's attention. Then the woman obligingly 
stepped into the pantry with some dishes, and quickly 
Jack gave a single tap on the window-pane. Boyle 
looked up instantly, started, smiled, then nodded his 
head in the direction of the railroad. Jack held up 
the parcel containing the telegraph instruments, the 
detective nodded again, and in a moment Jack was 
off. 

It was an exhausting run over the rough, little-used 
road, now darkened by the overhanging trees; but at 
length Jack recognized the point at which he had been 
carried from the woods, and turning in, soon found 
himself at the railroad. 

Hurrying to the nearest telegraph pole, he swarmed 
up to the cross-tree, and quickly filed through the wire 
on one side of the glass insulator. The broken wire 
fell jangling to the rails. Connecting an end of the 
wire he had brought with him to the wire on the other 
side of the pin. Jack slid to the ground, made the con- 
nections with the instrument, and the relay clicked 
closed. 


243 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


At once someone on the wire sent, Who had it 
open? What did you say?’’ 

‘‘Alex!” exclaimed Jack, at once recognizing the 
sending; and was about to break in when the instru- 
ment clicked, “17 just coming — CX.” 

“ Claxton, and 17! Just what we want! ” Quickly 
interrupting. Jack sent, “ CX — Hold 17 ! Hold her ! ” 

Then, “ To X — This is Jack, Al. I ’m in the woods 
about four miles from Claxton. We found the freight 
thieves, but they have Boyle prisoner. Ask the chief 
to have 17 take on a posse at CX and rush them here. 
I ’ll wait here, and lead them back. If they are quick 
they ’ll capture the whole gang.” 

“ OK ! OK ! Good for you,” shot back Alex. The 
wire was silent a moment, then Jack heard the order 
go on to Claxton as desired. 

Twenty-five minutes later, waiting in the darkness 
on the track. Jack saw the headlight of the fast-coming 
freight. The engineer, on the lookout, discovered him, 
pulled up, and a moment after Jack was off through 
the woods followed by two officers and several of the 
train crew. 

When they reached the farm, lights were still mov- 
ing about in the barn. Stealthily the party made for 
it, and surrounded it. 

“How would you like to lead the way in. Jack?” 
whispered the sheriff as they paused before the door. 
“ That would be only fair, after the trick Watts played 
on you.” 

Jack caught at the idea delightedly, and all being 

244 


THE LAST OF THE FREIGHT THIEVES 


ready, boldly threw open the barn door and entered 
with drawn revolver, followed by the sheriff. 

The four occupants were so completely taken by 
surprise that for a moment they stood immovable 
about a box of drygoods they had been repacking. 

‘‘ How do you do, Mr. Watts,’’ said Jack, smiling. 

This is my friend the sheriff, and the barn is sur- 
rounded. I think you would be foolish not to give 
up.” 

‘‘ Yes, hands up! ” crisply ordered the sheriff. And 
slowly the four pairs of hands went into the air, and 
the entire balance of the long-successful gang of 
freight thieves were prisoners. 

It was Jack himself who rushed off to the house 
and freed Detective Boyle. A half hour later, with 
one of the robbers’ own wagons filled with a great 
quantity of recovered stolen goods, the sheriff escorted 
his prisoners back to the railroad, and before daylight 
they were in the jail at Eastfield. 

Jack received considerable attention because of his 
part in the capture, and the affair still forms one of 
the popular yarns among trainmen on that division of 
the Middle Western. 


245 


XV 


THE DUDE OPERATOR 

A lex ward, like most vigorous, manly boys 
of his type, had a fixed dislike for anything 
approaching foppishness, especially in other boys. 
Consequently when on reporting at the Exeter office 
one evening he was introduced to Wilson Jennings, 
Alex treated him with but little more than necessary 
courtesy. For the newcomer, an operator but little 
older than himself, was distinctly a ‘‘ dude ’’ — from 
his patent-leather shoes and polka-dotted stockings to 
his red-and-yellow banded white straw hat. His care- 
fully-pressed suit was the very latest thing in light 
checked gray, he wore a collar which threatened to 
envelope his ears, and his white tie was of huge dimen- 
sions. Also he possessed the fair pink-and-white com- 
plexion of a girl. 

Alex was not alone in his derisive attitude toward 
the stranger. Shortly following the appearance of the 
night chief Mr. Jennings nodded everyone a good- 
evening, and departed, and immediately there was a 
general roar of laughter in the operating-room. 

‘‘Where did he fall from?” “Whose complexion 
powder is he advertising?” “Did you get onto his 
picture socks ? ” were some of the remarks bandied 
about. 


246 


THE DUDE OPERATOR 


When the chief announced that the new operator 
was from the east, and was being sent to the little 
foothills tank-station of Bonepile, there was a fresh 
outburst of hilarity. 

‘‘ Why, that cowboy outfit near there will string 
him up to the tank spout,’’ declared the operator on 
whose wire Bonepile was located. It ’s the toughest 
proposition on the wire.” 

‘‘ On the quiet, that is just why Jordan is sending 
him,” the night chief said. ‘‘ Not to have him strung 
up, that is, but to put him in the way of ‘ finding him- 
self,’ so to speak.” 

‘‘ He ’ll certainly ‘ find himself ’ there, then — if 
there ’s anything left, to find when the ranch crew get 
through,” laughed the operator. “ I ’d give five real 
dollars to see that show, and walk back.” 

‘‘ At that, you might have to walk back, if you 
wagered your money on the outcome,” responded the 
chief more gravely, turning to his desk. ‘‘ Clothes 
don’t make a man — neither do they un-make one. 
The ‘ Dude ’ may surprise us yet.” 

Whether the outcome of his appointment to the little 
watering station was to be a surprise or no, there was 
no doubt of Wilson Jennings’ surprise when the fol- 
lowing morning he alighted from the train at Bone- 
pile, and as the train sped on, awoke to the realization 
that he was entirely alone. Blankly he gazed at the 
little red-brown drygoods-box ” depot, the water- 
tank, the hills to the west, and to north, south and east 
the limitless stretching prairie. He had never imag- 
247 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


ined anything like this when he had decided on giving 
up a good position in the east to taste ‘‘ some adven- 
ture ’’ in the great west. 

However, here he was ; and picking up his two suit- 
cases, the boy made his way in to the tiny operating- 
room, and on into the bunk-kitchen-living-room 
behind. For here, ‘‘ a hundred miles* from anywhere,’’ 
the operator’s board and lodging was provided by the 
railroad. 

Early that evening Wilson was sitting somewhat 
disconsolately at the telegraph-room window when he 
was startled by a loud whoop. There was a second, 
then a rush of hoof . and a party of cowboys came into 
view. 

It was the welcoming committee ” of the Bar-0 
ranch, the ‘‘outfit” referred to by the operator at 
Exeter. 

With a final whoop ihe cowmen thundered up to the 
station platform, and dismounted. Muskoka Jones, a 
huge, heavily-moustached ranchman over six feet in 
height, was first to reach the open window. Diving 
within to the waist, he brought a bottle down on the 
instrument table with a crash. 

“ Pardner, welcome to our city ! ” he shouted. 

The response should have been instantaneous and 
hearty. Instead there was a strange quiet. 

The following Bar-O’s faltered, and exchanged 
glances. Surely the Western had not at last “ fallen 
down ” on its first obligation at Bonepile ! For since 
the coming of the rails they had regarded the station 
248 


THE DUDE OPERATOR 


operator as a sort of social adjunct to the ranch — the 
keeper of an open house of hospitality, their daily 
paper, the final learned authority on all matters of 
politics and sport. And if this latest change of opera- 
tors had brought them — 

Muskoka spoke again, and the worst was realized. 

Well, you gal-faced little dude! ’’ 

The cowmen crowded forward, and peering over 
Muskoka's board shoulders, studied Wilson from head 
to foot with speechless scorn. 

Muskoka settled forward on his elbows. 

‘‘ Are you a real operator? ” he inquired. 

In a voice that sounded foolish even to himself Wil- 
son responded in the affirmative. 

Actooal, real, male operator? ’’ 

The cluster of bronzed faces guffawed loudly. 

‘'But y’ don’t play kiards, do you?” Muskoka 
asked incredulously. “ Now I bet you don’t. Or 
smoke? Or chew? Or any of them wicked — ” 

“ Here are some cigarettes the other man left.” 
Hopefully the boy extended the package — to have it 
snatched from his hand, scramblingly emptied, and the 
box flipped ceilingward. 

In falling the box brought further trouble. It 
struck something on the wall which emitted a hollow 
thud, and glancing up the cowmen espied Wilson’s 
new, brilliantly-banded hat. In a trice Muskoka’s long 
arm had secured it, with the common inspiration the 
cluster of faces withdrew; the hat sailed high in the 
air, there was an ear-splitting rattle of shots, and the 
249 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

shattered remnant was returned to Wilson with cere- 
mony. 

There — all proper millinaried dee la Bonepile/’ 
said Muskoka. ‘‘ An’ don’t mention it.” 

Now give me that white- washed fence you have 
around your ears.” The boy shrank farther back in 
his chair, then suddenly turned and reached for the 
telegraph key. In a moment the big cowman’s pistol 
was out. 

Back in your chair ! Give me that white fence ! ” 
he commanded. 

Trembling, Wilson removed his collar and handed 
it over. The cowman stepped back and calmly pro- 
ceeded to shoot a row of holes in it. 

There,” he announced, returning it, ‘‘ much better. 
That ’s Bonepile fashion. Put it on.” 

Meekly Wilson obeyed, and the circle of cowmen 
roared at the result. 

Now,” proceeded Muskoka, that coat of yours is 
nice. Very nice. But I think it ’d look better inside- 
out. Try it.” 

Wilson again turned desperately toward the key, 
the cowman banged on the table with his pistol, and 
slowly the boy complied. And a few minutes after, 
on a further command, he emerged from the doorway 
— in shattered hat, perforated collar, ridiculously 
turned coat, and with trousers rolled to his knees — a 
spectacle that set the cowboys staggering and shouting 
about the platform in convulsions of laughter. 

In fact the result was so pleasing that after en joy- 
250 


THE DUDE OPERATOR 


ing it to the full, the ranchmen decided to carry the 
hazing no further, and only requesting of Wilson that 
he wave his hat and give ‘‘ three cheers for the citizens 
of Bonepile,’’ they mounted their ponies, and scam- 
pered away. 

Hastening in to the telegraph instruments, Wilson 
began frantically calling Exeter. Before X had re- 
sponded, however, the boy paused, and sat back in his 
chair, a new light coming into his eyes. 

‘^Yes, sir; I'll wager they sent them down here 
to do this,’’ he said aloud. 

Suddenly he arose, and began removing the turned 
coat. ‘‘ I ’ll stick it out here for two weeks — if they 
lynch me ! ” declared the ‘‘ dude ” grimly. 

It was early Wednesday evening of a week later 
that the monthly gold shipment came down from the 
Red Valley mines. The consignment was an unu- 
sually large one, and in view of the youth of the new 
operator the superintendent wired a request that Big 
Bill Smith, the driver of the mines express, remain 
at the station until the treasure was safely aboard 
train. 

On reading the message, however. Big Bill flatly 
refused. ‘‘ Why, it ’s the night of Dan Haggerty’s 
dance,” he pointed out indignantly. Does n’t the 
superintendent know that?” 

‘‘ The superintendent did n’t — and did n’t care,” 
was the response to the wired protest. ‘‘ The driver 
was supposed to remain at all times. It was an old 
understanding.” 


251 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Understanding or not, Big Bill declined to remain, 
and stormed out the door, announcing that he would 
get someone down from the Bar-O ranch. Half an 
hour later Muskoka Jones appeared. 

‘‘ Good evening. I ’m sorry it was necessary to 
trouble you, sir,’’ apologized Wilson. 

‘‘ Good evening, Willie. Don’t mention it,” was the 
big cowman’s scornful response. Then, having mo- 
mentarily paused to cast a contemptuous eye over the 
lad’s neat attire, he threw himself on the floor in the 
farthermost corner of the room, and promptly fell fast 
asleep. 

Some time after darkness had fallen the young te- 
legrapher, dozing in his chair at the instrument table, 
was startled into consciousness by the sound of ap- 
proaching hoofbeats. With visions of Indians or rob- 
bers he sprang to the window, to discover a dim, tall 
figure dismounting on the platform. In alarm he 
turned to call the sleeping guard, but momentarily hesi- 
tating, looked again, the figure came into the light of 
the window, and with relief he recognized Iowa Burns, 
another of the Bar-O cowmen. 

Hello, kid,” said the newcomer, entering. 

Where ’s Old Muskoke ? ” 

Good evening. Over there, asleep, sir. I suppose 
you knew he was taking Mr. Smith’s place, guarding 
the gold until the train came in? ” 

Sure, yes. I was there when Bill come up.” He 
crossed to the side of the snoring Jones, and kicked 
him sharply on the sole of his boots. M’skoke! Git 
252 


THE DUDE OPERATOR 

up ! ” he shouted. Here ’s something to keep out the 
chills.’’ 

Again, and more sharply, he kicked the sleeping 
man, while the boy looked on, smiling. 

Suddenly the smile disappeared, and the lad’s heart 
leaped into his throat. He was gazing into the black, 
round muzzle of a pistol, and beyond it was a face set 
with a deadly purpose. Instinctively his staring eyes 
flickered towards the box of bullion. 

Yep, that ’s it. But wink an eye agin, an’ y git 
it!” said Burns coldly, advancing. ‘‘Now, git back 
there up agin the corner of the table, an’ stand, so ’f 
anyone comes along you ’ll appear to be leanin’ there, 
conversin’. Go on, quick! ” 

Dazed, cold with fear, the boy obeyed, and Iowa, 
producing a sheaf of hide thongs, proceeded to bind 
his arms to his side. 

As the renegade tightened a knot securing the boy’s 
left leg to the leg of the table, Muskoka’s snoring ab- 
ruptly ceased, and the sleeper moved uneasily. In a 
flash Iowa was over him, pistol in hand. But the snor- 
ing presently resumed, and after watching him sharply 
for a moment, Iowa returned to the boy. 

“ Now move, remember, an’ I shoot,” he repeated 
warningly. “ To make sure, I ’m going to fix up that 
snoring idiot over there before I finish you. An’ don’t 
you as much as shuffle your hoof! ” Recovering the 
bundle of thongs, he strode back to the sleeper. 

As previously the man’s back had been turned Wil- 
son had shot a frantic glance about him. In their 
253 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


sweep his eyes had fallen on the partly open drawer 
in the end of the table, immediately below his left 
hand, and in the drawer had noted the bowl of a pipe. 
At the moment nothing had resulted, but as the rene- 
gade's back was again turned his eyes again dropped 
to the drawer, and a sudden wild possibility occurred 
to him. 

His heart seemed literally to stand still at the au- 
dacity, the danger of it. But might it not be possible ? 
The light from the single lamp, on the wall opposite, 
was poor, and his left side thus in deep shadow. And 
his left hand — he tried it — yes, though tightly bound 
at the wrist, the hand itself was free. 

His first day at the station, the visit of the men 
from the ranch, Muskoka's contemptuous greeting, 
recurred to him. Here was his opportunity of vin- 
dication. 

With a desperate clenching of the teeth the boy de- 
cided, and at once began cautiously straining at the 
thongs about his wrist, to obtain the reach necessary. 
Finally they slipped, slightly, but enough. Carefully 
he leaned sideways, his fingers extended. He reached 
the pipe, fumbled a moment, and secured it. 

Burns was on his knees beside the unconscious 
guard, splicing a thong. An instant Wilson hesitated, 
then springing erect, pointed the pipe-stem, and in a 
voice he scarcely knew, a voice sharp as the crack of 
a whip, cried : 

Hands up. Burns ! I got you ! 

Quick! I ’ll shoot! ” 


254 


THE DUDE OPERATOR 


The renegade cowman, taken completely by surprise, 
leaped to his feet with a cry, without turning, his hands 
instinctively half-raised. 

‘‘ Quick ! Up ! Up! '' cried the boy. A breathlessly 
critical instant the hands wavered, then slowly, reluc- 
tantly, they ascended. 

For a moment the young operator stood panting, 
but half believing the witness of his own eyes to the 
success of the stratagem. Then at the top of his voice 
he cried: Mr. Jones! Mr. Jones! Muskoka! Wake 
up! Wake up!’’ 

Iowa, muttering beneath his breath, paused anx- 
iously to watch results. 

‘‘ Muskoka ! Muskoka ! ” shouted the lad. The 
snoring continued evenly, unbrokenly. 

Iowa indulged in a dry laugh. ‘‘ Save your wind, 
kid,” he said. I fixed a drink he took before he came 
down.” 

At this news the boy’s heart sank. 

But look here, kid.” Iowa turned carefully, hands 
still in the air. “ Look here, can’t we square this thing 
up? You got the drop on me, OK — and with a 
blame little pea-shooter,” he added, catching a glimpse, 
as he thought, of the end of a small black barrel, but 
nevertheless continuing his attitude of surrender. 
‘‘You got the drop — and you’re a smart kid, you 
are — but can’t we fix this thing up? You take half, 
say? I’d be glad to let you in. Honest! An’ no 
one ’d ever think you was in the game. Come, what 
d’ y’ say?” 


255 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Though apparently listening, the young operator 
was in reality urgently casting about in his mind for 
other expedients. Obviously it would be too danger- 
ous to attempt to reach with the fingers of one of his 
bound hands the thongs holding his left leg to the leg 
of the table. He might reveal the pipe, or drop it. 
And neither could he reach the telegraph key, to get in 
touch with someone on the wire. And in any case, how 
could that help him? For the next train was not due 
for two hours, and it did not seem possible he could 
carry on his bluff that length of time. 

But think as he would, the wire seemed the only 
hope. Could he not reach the key in some way? 

The solution came as Iowa ventured a short step 
nearer, and repeated his suggestion. At first sight 
it seemed as ridiculously impossible as the bluff with 
the pipe, but quickly the boy weighed the chances, and 
determined to take the risk. 

‘‘ Now, Mr. Iowa,’’ he said, ‘‘ you are to do just 
exactly what I tell you, step by step, so much and no 
more. If you make any other move, if I only think 
you are going to, I shall shoot. My finger is pressing 
the trigger constantly. And I guess you can see that 
at this range, though my hold on the gun is a bit 
cramped, I could not miss you if I wanted to. 

Listen, now. You will come forward until you 
can reach the chair here by sticking out your foot. 
Then you will push it back along the table to the wall, 
and turn it face to me. Then you will sit down in it. 
After that I ’ll tell you some more. 

256 


THE DUDE OPERATOR 


Go ahead ! And remember — my finger always 
pressing the trigger! ’’ 

As Burns came forward, infinitely puzzled, the boy 
turned slowly, so that the muzzle ’’ of the pipe con- 
tinued to cover the would-be bullion thief. Gingerly 
Iowa reached out with his foot and shoved the chair 
back to the wall, and turning, backed into it and sat 
down. With the shadow of a grin on his face, he 
demanded, ‘‘Wot next?’' 

“ Now, slowly let your left arm down at full length 
on the table. There — hand is on the key, is n’t it ? 

“ Now,” continued Wilson, who never for an instant 
allowed his eyes to wander from the man’s face, “ now 
feel with your fingers at the back of the key, and find 
a screw-head, standing up.” 

“ Which one? There are two or three,” said Iowa 
craftily. 

“ No, there are not. There ’s just one. And I give 
you ‘ three ’ to find it,” said the young operator 
sharply. “ One, two — ” 

“ Oh, go on ! I got it ! ” exclaimed Iowa angrily. 

“ Below the screw-head is a binding-nut. Loosen 
it, and turn it leftwise. Found it? Now take hold of 
the screw-head again, and turn it to the left. It turns 
free, does n’t it? ” 

“ Sure.” 

“ Turn it about four times completely around. Now 
the binding nut again, down, the other way, till it ’s 
tight. Got it? 

“ Now, hold your finger tips over the black button 

257 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

at the inner end of the key, and hit down on it 
smartly/’ 

There was a click. 

'' That ’s it. It has plenty of play, has n’t it? ” 

‘‘ Works up and down about an inch, if that ’s wot 
you mean,” growled Iowa, still puzzled. ‘‘ But 
wot — ” 

’m going to give you a lesson in telegraphy and 
you are going to - — ” 

Iowa saw, and exploded. Well, of all the — Say, 
wot do you think — ” 

“ All right ! ” Sharply, bravely, though inwardly 
steeling himself for catastrophe, the lad counted, 
‘‘ One! — Two! — ” 

Again he won. ‘‘Oh, go on!” sputtered Iowa, 
through gritting teeth. And the boy resumed. 

“ Hit the key a sharp rap ! Pretty good. Now, two 
raps, one right after the other. Good. 

“ Now, those are what we call ‘ dots.’ Remember. 
Now, press the key down, hold it for just a moment, 
and let it come up again. Very good. You would 
learn telegraphy quickly, Mr. Burns. That is what we 
call a ‘ dash.’ ” With the situation apparently so well 
in hand, Wilson was beginning almost to enjoy it. 

“ Now I ’ll have you do what I ’ve been aiming at. 
And remember always — my finger is constantly press- 
ing the trigger ! ” 

“ Now then, feel just this side of the key button, 
below. The little button of a lever ? Got it ? Press it 
from you.” 


258 


THE DUDE OPERATOR 


There was a single sharp upward click of relay and 
sounder. The key was ‘‘ open,” ready for operation. 

Now listen. I want you to make the letter X — a 
dot, a dash, then two more dots right together. And 
keep repeating till I stop you.” 

Still under the spell of the fancied revolver and the 
boy’s unfaltering gaze, the renegade cowman obeyed, 
and the telegraph instruments clicked out a painfully 
deliberate, but fairly readable ‘‘ X.” 

It was an idle half-hour, and when the despatcher 
at Exeter heard his call he glanced up from a magazine, 
listened a moment, and impatiently remarking, ‘‘ Some 
idiot student ! ” returned to his reading. 

But steadily, insistently, the repetition of X’s con- 
tinued, and at length he reached forward, struck open 
the key, and demanded, “ Who? Sign! ” 

Clumsily came the answer, B.” 

^‘Bonepile! Now what’s happening down there? 
It does n’t sound like the new operator, either.” 

The wire again clicked open, and slowly, in the 
same heavy hand, the mystified and then amazed des- 
patcher read : 

‘‘H-E-L-P — H-E-L-D U-P — A-F-T-E-R 
G-O-L-D — T-I-E-D T-O T-A-B-L-E — G-O-T 
D-R-O-P O-N H-I-M — M-A-K-I-N-G H-I-M 
S-E-N-D — B.” 

The despatcher grasped his key. Good boy ! Good 
boy ! ” he hurled back.x Keep it up for twenty-five 
minutes and we ’ll get help to you. There ’s an extra 
engine at H, waiting for 92. I ’ll start her right 
259 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


down/’ And therewith he whirled off into an urgent 
succession of “ H’s.” 

But through young Jennings’ strange feat in te- 
legraphy help was nearer even than the unexpected 
succor from Hillside. Despite the sleeping draught 
Burns had administered to Muskoka Jones, the unac- 
customed clicking of the telegraph instruments had 
begun to arouse the big cowman. When finally, in 
climax, came the lightning whirr of the despatcher’s 
excited response, he gasped into consciousness, blinked, 
and suddenly found himself sitting upright, staring 
open-mouthed at the spectacle before him. 

The next moment, with a shout, he was on his feet 
in the middle of the floor, and the nerve-strung boy 
had fainted. 

As the lad sank forward his pistol ” fell from his 
hand and rolled into the light. 

From Burns came an inarticulate cry, his jaw 
dropped, his eyes started in his head. Muskoka 
halted in his stride, wet his lips and muttered incredu- 
lous words of admiration and amazement. Then in 
a moment he had cut Wilson free, and stretched him 
on the floor. 

It was Iowa broke the silence. Rising, with com- 
pressed lips he held toward Muskoka the butt of his 
pistol. Here, shoot me — with my own gun ! ” he 
said hoarsely. I deserve it.” 

Muskoka considered. No,” he decided at iength. 

Leave your gun as a present for the kid, and,” turn- 
ing and indicating the door, “ git ! ” 

260 


THE DUDE OPERATOR 


Thus was it the young ‘‘ dude ’’ operator proved 
himself, and came into possession of a handsome pearl- 
handled Colt's revolver — and, early the following 
morning, from a committee " of the Bar-O cowmen, 
headed by Muskoka Jones, a fine high-crowned, silver- 
spangled Mexican sombrero, to take the place of the 
hat they had destroyed, and ‘‘ as a mark of esteem 
for the pluckiest little operator ever sent to Bonepile." 

More important still, however, the incident won 
Wilson immediate esteem at division headquarters, 
where one of the first of the operators to congratulate 
him was Alex Ward. 


261 


XVI 


A DRAMATIC FLAGGING 

S INCE shortly following Jack Orr's appointment to 
Midway Junction Alex had been agitating/’ as 
he called it, for his friend’s transfer to the telegraph 
force at the division terminal. At length, early in 
the fall, Alex’s efforts bore fruit, and Jack was offered, 
and accepted, the night trick ” at one of the big yard 
towers at Exeter. 

Of course the two chums were now always together. 
And the day of the big flood that October was no ex- 
ception to the rule. All afternoon the two boys had 
wandered up and down the swollen river, watching 
the brown whirling waters, almost bank high, and the 
trees, fences, even occasional farm buildings, which 
swept by from above. When six o’clock came they 
reluctantly left it for supper, and the night’s duties. 

‘‘Well, what do you think of the river. Ward?” 
inquired the chief night despatcher as Alex entered 
the despatching-room. 

“ It looks rather bad, sir, does n’t it. Do you think 
the bridge is quite safe? ” 

“ Quite. It has been through several worse floods 
than this. It ’s as strong as the hills,” the despatcher 
affirmed. 

Despite the chief’s confidence, however, when about 
262 


A DRAMATIC FLAGGING 


5 o’clock in the morning there came reports of a second 
cloud-burst up the river, he requested Alex to call up 
Jack, at the yard tower which overlooked the bridge, 
and ask him to keep them posted. 

‘‘ Tell him the crest of this new flood will likely 
reach us in half an hour,” he added ; ‘‘ and that by that 
time, as it is turning colder, there ’ll probably be a 
heavy fog on the river.” 

Twenty-five minutes later Jack suddenly called, and 
announced, ‘‘The new flood’s coming! There is a 
heavy mist, and I can’t see, but I can hear it. Can 
you see it from up there ? ” 

Alex and the chief despatcher moved to one of the 
western windows, raised it, and in the first gray light 
of dawn gazed out across the valley below. Instead 
of the dark waters of the river, and the yellow embank- 
ment of the railroad following it, winding away north 
was a broad blanket of fog, stretching from shore to 
shore. But distinctly to their ears came a rumble as 
of thunder. 

“ It must be a veritable Niagara,” remarked the 
chief with some uneasiness. “ I never heard a bore 
come down like that before.” 

“ Here she comes,” clicked Jack from the tower. 
They stepped back to his instruments. 

^^Say! — ” 

There was a pause, while the chief and Alex ex- 
changed glances of apprehension, then came quickly, 
“ Something has struck one of the western spans of 
the bridge and carried it clean away — 

263 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


‘‘ No — No, it ’s there yet! But it ’s all smashed 
to pieces ! Only the upper-structure seems to be hold- 
ing!" 

Sharply the despatcher turned to an operator at one 
of the other wires. ‘‘ McLaren, Forty-six has n’t 
passed Norfolk? ” 

‘‘ Yes, sir. Five minutes ago.” 

A cry broke from the chief, and he ran back to the 
window. Alex followed, and found him as pale as 
death. 

‘‘What’s the matter, Mr. Allen?” he ex- 
claimed. 

“Matter! Why, Norfolk is the last stop between 
that train and the bridge ! She ’ll be down here in 
twenty minutes! And even if we can get someone 
across the bridge immediately, how can they flag her 
in that wall of mist?” Hopelessly he pointed where 
on the farther shore the tracks were completely hidden 
in the blanket of white vapor. “ And there ’s no time 
to send down torpedoes.” 

At the thought of the train rushing upon the broken 
span, and plunging from sight in the whirling flood 
below, Alex felt the blood draw back from his own 
face. 

“ But we will try something! We must try some- 
thing ! ” he cried. 

At that moment the office door opened and Division 
Superintendent Cameron appeared. “ Good morning, 
boys,” he said genially. “ I ’m quite an early bird this 
morning, eh ? Came down to meet the wife and chil- 
264 


A DRAMATIC FLAGGING 

dren. They Te getting in from their vacation by 
Forty-six. 

'' Why, Allen, what is the matter ? ” 

The chief swayed back against the window-ledge. 
‘'One of the bridge spans — has just gone,” he 
responded thickly, “ and Forty-six — passed Nor- 
folk!” 

The superintendent stared blankly a moment, started 
forward, then staggered back into a chair. But in 
another instant he was on his feet, pallid, but cool. 
“Well, what are you doing to stop her?” he de- 
manded sharply. 

The chief pulled himself together. “ It only hap- 
pened this moment, sir. The man at the yard tower 
just reported. One of the western spans was struck 
by something. Only the upper-structure is, hanging,” 
he says. 

“ Can’t you send someone over on foot, with a flag, 
or torpedoes ? ” 

“ There are no torpedoes at the bridge house, and 
there ’s not time to send them down. As to flagging 
— look at the mist over the whole valley bottom,” 
said the despatcher pointing. “ Except directly oppo- 
site, where the wind between the hills breaks it up at 
times, the engineer could n’t see three feet ahead of 
him.” 

The superintendent gripped his hands convulsively. 
Suddenly he turned to Alex. “ Ward, can’t you sug- 
gest something?” he appealed. “You have always 
shown resource in emergencies.” 

265 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


“ I have been trying to think of something, sir. 
But, as the chief says, even if we could get a man 
across the bridge, what could he do ? I was down by 
the river yesterday morning, and the haze was like 
a blind wall.” 

‘‘ Could n't a fire be built on the tracks ? ” 

‘‘ Not quickly enough, sir. Everything is soaking 
wet.” 

The superintendent strode up and down helplessly. 
‘‘ And of course it had to happen after the Riverside 
Park station had closed for the season,” he said bit- 
terly. If we had had an operator there we — ” 

The interruption was a cry from Alex. I Ve 
something! Oil!” 

He dashed for the tower wire. 

What? What 's that? ” cried the superintendent, 
running after. 

‘‘ Oil on a pile of ties, or anything, sir — providing 
Orr can get over the bridge,” Alex explained hurriedly 
as he whirled ofif the letters of Jack's call. The official 
dropped into the chair beside him. 

I, I, TR,” answered Jack. 

OR, have you any oil in the tower? ” shot Alex. 

'' No, but there 's some in the lamp-shed just be- 
low.” 

Look here, could you possibly get across the 
bridge?” 

‘‘ I might manage it. There is a rail bicycle in the 
lamp-house. If the rails are hanging together perhaps 
I could shoot over with that. Why?” 

266 


A DRAMATIC FLAGGING 


46 is due in twenty minutes, and apparently we 
have no way of stopping her except through you.’’ 

Why, certainly I ’ll risk it,” buzzed the sounder. 
‘‘ I suppose the oil is to make a quick blaze, to flag 
her?” Jack added, catching Alex’s idea. 

‘‘ That ’s it. Make it just this side of the Riverside 
Park station.” 

‘‘OK! Here goes!” 

“ Good luck,” sent Alex, with a sudden catch in his 
throat, as he realized the danger his chum was so 
cheerfully running. “ God help him ! ” added the 
superintendent fervently. 

Jack, in the distant tower, took little time to think 
of the danger himself. Catching up a lantern and 
lighting it, he was quickly out and down the tower 
steps, and running for the nearby shed. Fortunately 
it was unlocked. Darting in, he found a large can of 
oil. Carrying it out to the main-line track, he re- 
turned, and hurriedly dragged forth the yard lamp- 
man’s rail bicycle — a three-wheeled affair, with the 
seat and gear of an ordinary bicycle. 

Swinging the little car onto the rails, he placed the 
oil can on the platform between the arms, swung the 
lantern over the handle-bars, mounted, and was off, 
pedalling with all his might. 

As he speedily neared the down-grade of the bridge 
approach, and the roar of the flood met him in full 
force, Jack for the first time began to realize the 
danger of his mission. But with grimly set lips, he 
refused to think of it, and pedalled ahead determinedly. 
267 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


He topped the grade, and below him was a solid 
roof of mist, only the bridge towers showing. 

Apprehensively, but without hesitation, he sped 
downward. The first dampness of the vapor struck 
him. The next moment he was lost in a blinding wall 
of white. He could not see the rails. 

On he pedalled with bowed head. Suddenly came 
a roar beneath him. He was over the water. 

Jack’s occasional views from the tower had shown 
him where the bridge was shattered; and for some 
distance he continued ahead at a good speed. Then 
judging he was nearing the wrecked portion, he 
slowed down and went on very slowly, peering before 
him with straining eyes, and listening sharply for a 
note in the tumult of water below which might tell 
of the broken timbers and twisted iron. 

It came, a roar of swirling, choking and gurgling. 
Simultaneously there was a trembling of the rails be- 
neath him. 

He was on the shattered span. 

At a crawl Jack proceeded. The vibration became 
more violent. On one side the track began to dip. 
Momentarily Jack hesitated, and paused. At once 
came a picture of the train rushing toward him, and 
conquering his fear, he went on. 

Suddenly the track swayed violently, then dipped 
sharply sideways. With a cry Jack sprang oflf back- 
wards, and threw himself flat on his face on the sleep- 
ers, Trembling, deafened by the roar of the cataract 
just beneath him, he lay afraid to move, believing 
268 


A DRAMATIC FLAGGING 


the swaying structure would give way every instant. 
But finally the rails steadied, and partly righted ; and 
regaining his courage, Jack rose to his knees, and be- 
gan working his way forward from tie to tie, pushing 
the bicycle ahead of him. 

Presently the rails became steadier. Cautiously he 
climbed back into the saddle, and slowly at first, then 
with quickly increasing speed and rising hope, pushed 
on. The vibration decreased, the track again became 
even and firm. Suddenly at last the thunder of the 
river passed from below him, and he was safely across. 

A few yards from the bridge, and still in the mist, 
Jack peered down to see that the oil can was safe. 
He caught his breath. Reaching out, he felt about 
the little platform with his foot. 

Yes ; it was gone ! The tipping of the car had sent 
it into the river. 

As the significance of its loss burst upon him, and 
he thought of the peril he had come through to no 
purpose, Jack sat upright in the saddle, and the tears 
welled to his eyes. 

Promptly, however, came remembrance of the 
Riverside Park station, a mile ahead of him. Perhaps 
there was oil there ! 

Clenching his teeth, and bending low over the han- 
dlebars, Jack shot on, determined to fight it out to 
the finish. 

Meantime, at the main office the entire staflf, includ- 
ing the superintendent, the chief despatcher and Alex, 
were crowded in the western windows, watching, wait- 
' 269 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


ing and listening. Shortly after Alex had announced 
Jack's departure a suppressed shout had greeted the 
tiny light of his lantern on the bridge approach, and 
a subdued cheer of good luck had followed him as 
he had disappeared into the wall of mist. 

Then had succeeded a painful silence, while all eyes 
were fixed anxiously on the spot opposite where a light 
west wind, blowing down through a cut in the hills, 
occasionally lifted the blanket of fog and dimly dis- 
closed the river bank and track. 

Minute after minute passed, however, and Jack did 
not reappear. The silence became ominous. 

“ Surely he should be over by this time, and we 
should have had a glimpse of his light," said the chief. 

Unless — " 

An electrifying cry of There he is ! " interrupted 
him, and all momentarily saw a tiny, twinkling light, 
and a small dark figure shooting along the distant 
track. 

A moment after the buzz of excited hope as sud- 
denly died. From the north came a long, low-pitched 

Too — oo, too — oo, oo, oo ! " 

The train ! 

How far up, Allen ? " 

Three miles." 

The superintendent groaned. ‘‘He'll never do it! 
He 'll never do it ! She 'll be at the bridge in five 
minutes ! " 

“No; Broad is careful," declared the chief, refer- 
ring to the engineer of the coming train. “ He won’t 
270 



JACK ROSE TO HIS ICNEES, AND BEGAN WORKING HIS WAY FORWARD FROM 

TIE TO TIE. 













A DRAMATIC FLAGGING 


keep up that speed when he strikes the worst of the 
fog. There are eight or ten minutes yet.” 

Again came the long, mellow notes of the big en- 
gine, whistling a crossing. 

‘‘Who’s that?” said Alex suddenly, half turning 
from the window. The next moment with a cry of 
“ He ’s at the station ! Orr ’s at the Park station ! ” 
he darted to the calling instruments, and shot back an 
answer. The rest rushed after, and crowded about 
him. 

“ I ’m at the Park station,” whirled the sounder. 
“ I broke in. I lost the oil can on the bridge. There 
is no oil here. What shall I do?” 

As the chief read ofif the excited words to the super- 
intendent, the official sank limply and hopelessly into 
a chair. 

“ But might there not be some there, somewhere? 
Who would know, Mr. Allen? ” 

At Alex’s words the chief spun about. “ McLaren, 
call Flanagan on the ’phone ! ” he cried. “ Quick ! ” 

The operator sprang to the telephone, and in intense 
silence the party waited. 

He got the number. 

“ Hello! Is Flanagan there? 

“ Say, is there any oil across the river at the Park 
station ? 

“For Heavens sake, don’t ask questions! Is 
there?” 

“Yes; he says there’s a half barrel in the shed 
behind,” reported the operator. 

273 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Alex’s hand shot back to the key. 

At the first dot he paused. 

Through the open window came a whistle, strong 
and clear. 

The chief threw up his hands. Alex himself sank 
back in his chair, helplessly. 

Suddenly he again started forward. 

‘‘I have it!” 

With the sharp words he again grasped the key, 
and while those about him listened with bated breath 
he sent like a flash, Jack, there ’s a barrel of oil in 
the shed at the rear. Knock the head in, spill it, and 
set a match to it. 

Burn the station! ” 

The chief and the operators gasped, then with one 
accord set up a shout and darted back for the win- 
dows. The superintendent, told of the message, 
rushed after. 

In absolute silence all fixed their eyes on the spot 
a mile up the river where lay the little summer depot. 

Once more came the long-drawn ‘‘Too — oo, too — 
oo, oo, oo ! ” for a crossing. 

“ The next ’ll tell,” said the chief tensely — “ for 
the crossing this side of the station, or — ” 

It came. It was the crossing. 

But the next instant from the mist shot up a lurid 
flare. From the windows rose a cry. Higher leaped 
the flames. And suddenly across the quiet morning 
air came a long series of quick sharp toots. Again 
they came — then the short, sharp note for brakes. 

274 




A DRAMATIC FLAGGING 


And the boys and the flames had won ! 

The superintendent turned and held out his hand. 

Ward, thank you,” he said huskily. ‘‘ Thank you. 
You are a genuine railroader.” 

‘‘And — about the station?” queried Alex, a sud- 
den apprehension in his face and voice. For the mo- 
ment the crisis was past he had realized with dismay 
that he had issued the unprecedented order for the 
burning of the station entirely on his own responsi- 
bility. 

“ The station ? ” The superintendent laughed. 
“ My boy, that was the best part of it. That was the 
generalship of it. There was no time to ask, only act. 
The fraction of a second might have lost the train. 

“No; that is just why I say you are a genuine 
railroader — the burning of the station was a piece of 
the finest kind of railroading ! 

“ And this reminds me,” added the superintendent 
some minutes later, leading Alex aside and speaking 
in a lower voice. “We expect to start construction 
on the Yellow Creek branch in six weeks, and will be 
wanting an ‘ advance guard ’ of three or four heady, 
resourceful operators with the construction train, or 
on ahead. Would you like to go? and your friend 
Orr ? There ’ll be plenty of excitement before we are 
through.” 

“ I ’d like nothing better, sir, or Orr either, I 
know,” declared Alex with immediate interest. “ But 
where will the excitement come in, sir ? ” 

“ You have heard the talk of the K. & Z. also run- 

277 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


ning a line to the new gold field from Red Deer ? And 
that they were held up by right-of-way trouble? 
Well, we have just learned that that was all a bluff; 
that they have been quietly making preparations, and 
are about to start construction almost immediately. 
And you see what that means ? ’’ 

‘‘ A race for the Yellow pass?” 

‘‘ A race — and more than that. Did you ever read 
of the great war between the Santa Fe and the Rio 
Grande for the Grand Canyon of Colorado? Regu- 
larly organized bands of fighting men on either side, 
and pitched battles? Well, I don't anticipate matters 
coming to that point between us and the K. & Z., but 
I would n't be surprised if it came near it before we 
are through. The lines traverse wild country, and the 
K. & Z. people have men in their construction depart- 
ment who would pull up track or cut wires as soon as 
light a pipe. In the latter case they would cut at 
critical times. There is where an operator with a head 
for difficulties might prove invaluable.” 

‘M would be more than glad to tackle it, sir,” agreed 
Alex enthusiastically. 

Very well then. You may consider yourself, and 
your friend Orr, appointed. And if you know of any- 
one else of the same brand, you might suggest him,” 
the superintendent concluded. 

I don't think I do, sir — at the moment,” Alex 
responded. 

The week succeeding brought Alex a suggestion. 


278 


XVII 


WILSON AGAIN DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF 

I T was decidedly warm the following Monday noon 
at Bonepile, and Wilson Jennings, his coat off, 
but wearing the fancy Mexican sombrero that the 
Bar-0 cowmen had given him, sat in the open window 
to catch the breeze that blew through from the rear. 
From the window Wilson could not see the wagon- 
trail toward the hills to the west. Thus was it that the 
low thud of hoofs first told him of someone’s hurried 
approach. 

Starting to his feet, he stepped to the end of the 
platform. At sight of a horseman coming toward him 
at full speed, and leading a second horse, saddled, but 
riderless, Wilson gazed in surprise. Wonder increased 
when as the rider drew nearer he recognized Muskoka 
Jones, the big Bar-0 cowman. 

‘‘ What is it, Muskoka ? ” he shouted as- the ponies 
approached. 

The cow-puncher pulled up all-standing within a 
foot of the platform. 

** There ’s been an explosion at the Pine Lode, kid, 
and ten men are bottled up somewhere in the lower 
level. Two men got in through a small hole — the 
mouth of the mine is blocked — and one of them is 


279 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


tapping on the iron pump-pipe. Bartlett, the mine 
boss, thinks it may be telegraph ticking — that maybe 
Young knows something about that. Will you come 
up and listen? 

You see, if they knew what was what inside, 
they ’d know what they could do. They are afraid 
to blast the big rock that ’s blocking the mouth for 
fear of bringing loosened stuff down on the men who 
have been caught.’’ 

Wilson was running for the station door. “ I ’ll 
explain to the despatcher,” he shouted over his shoul- 
der. 

‘‘ I, I, X,” responded the despatcher. 

‘‘ There has been an explosion at the Pine Lode 
mine,” sent Wilson rapidly, ‘‘ and a man has been sent 
to take me there to try and read some tapping from 
the men inside. Can you give 144 and the Mail clear- 
ance from Q and let me go up? ” 

“ Some tapping ? What — Oh, I understand. OK ! 
Go ahead,” ticked the despatcher. “ Get back as soon 
as possible.” 

I will.” 

“ All right, Muskoke,” cried Wilson, hastening 
forth, struggling into his coat as he ran. 

‘‘ Get round thar,” shouted the cowboy, swinging 
the spare pony to the platform. Wilson went into the 
saddle with a neat bound. 

‘‘ Say, you ’ve seen a hoss before, kid,” observed 
Muskoka with surprise as he threw over the reins. 

‘‘ Sure I have. Used to spend my summer vaca- 
280 


WILSON AGAIN DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF 


tions on a farm. Can ride a bit standing up/’ said 
Wilson, with pride. 

They swung their animals about together, and were 
off on the jump. As the two ponies stretched out to 
their full stride the cowboy eyed Wilson’s easy seat 
with approval. Well, kid,” he observed after a mo- 
ment’s silence, ‘‘ next time I come across a dude I ’ll 
git him to do his tricks before I brand him. I don’t 
see but what you sit about as good as I do.” 

Wilson’s pleased smile gave place to gravity as he 
returned to the subject of the explosion. ‘‘ When did 
it happen?” he asked. 

'' Early this morning. Just after the men went in. 
They ’re not sure, but think it was powder stored 
at the foot of the shaft down to the lower level. The 
main lead of the Pine Lode, you know, runs straight 
into the mountain, not down; and the shaft to the 
lower level is a ways in. We heard the noise at the 
Bar-O. 

‘‘ There ’s nothing much to see, or do, though,” the 
cowman added as they raced along neck and neck. 

A big rock just over the entrance came down, and 
when they got the dirt away they found it had bottled 
the thing up like a cork. It ’s that they are afraid to 
blast until they know how the men are fixed inside. 
Hoover and Young got in through a small hole at the 
top. Hoover about half an hour before Young. He 
started tapping on the pipe too, then stopped. They 
don’t know what happened to him.” 

Twenty minutes’ hard riding brought them to the 
281 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


foothills. Still at the gallop the ponies were urged 
up a winding rocky trail, and finally a tall black chim- 
ney and a group of rough buildings came into view. 

‘‘ There it is,’’ said the cowboy, indicating a ledge 
just above. 

As they went forward, still at full speed, Wilson 
gazed toward the mine entrance with some astonish- 
ment. Mine disasters he had always thought of as 
scenes of great excitement — people running to and 
fro, wringing their hands, excited crowds held back 
by ropes, and men calling and shouting. Here, about 
a spot but little distinguished from the rest of the 
rocky, sparsely-treed mountain side, was gathered a 
group of perhaps fifty men, some sitting on beams and 
rocks, others moving quietly about, all smoking. 

On their being discovered, however, there was a 
stir, and as Muskoka and the boy dismounted at the 
foot of a rough path and ascended there was a general 
movement of the miners and cowmen to meet them. 

I got him,” Muskoka announced briefly to a 
grizzle-haired man who met them at the top. This 
is Bartlett, the mine boss,” he said to Wilson by way 
of introduction. The boss nodded. 

‘‘ The tapping ’s going on yet, is it, Joe? ” 

No. It ’s stopped, just like Hoover’s did,” was 
the gloomy response. ‘‘ And just when we were get- 
ting onto it ourselves.” 

The speaker held up a small board pencilled with 
figures and letters. Redding there hit on the idea 
that maybe Young was knocking out the numbers of 
282 


WILSON AGAIN DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF 


letters in the alphabet, and we made this table, and 
just found out we had it right when the tapping 
stopped. That was twenty minutes ago, and we 
have n’t had another knock since.” 

“ Let ’s see it. What did you get ? ” 

‘‘ There — ‘ 20, 7, 5, 20, 21, 16 ’ — ‘ T G E T U R’ 
Something about ‘ can’t get up,’ we figured it. But 
it ’s not enough to be of any use. 

‘‘ And there ’s not another man here can wriggle 
in through the hole,” went on the boss, turning toward 
the great rock which sealed the mouth of the mine. 

A dozen of ’em tried it, and Redding got stuck so 
we had to get a rope on him. Nearly pulled his legs 
off.” 

Wilson made his way forward and examined the 
strangely blocked entrance. The small hole referred 
to was a triangular-shaped opening about a foot in 
height and some sixteen inches in width, apparently 
just at the roof of the gallery. Some minutes Wilson 
stood studying it, pondering. Finally he turned about 
with an air of decision and returned to Muskoka and 
the mine boss. 

I have a plan,” he announced. If you will go 
back to the station again, Muskoke, I ’ll send for an- 
other operator, and go in the mine myself. Two 
operators could talk backwards and forwards easily on 
the piping. And — ” 

But whar ’s the other operator?” interrupted the 
cowboy. 

There is a freight due at the station in about 
283 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


twenty-five minutes. I can give you a message to 
hand the engineer for the operator at Ledges, the next 
station — a message asking the despatcher to send the 
Ledges operator down on the Mail. Someone could 
wait for him, and if there is no hitch he M be here 
inside of an hour and a half.” 

That ’ll work! ” exclaimed the boss. “ That ’s it! 
You ’ll go, Muskoke?” 

Sartenly. I ’ll get a fresh boss, and wait fer him 
myself.” Wilson, finding an envelope in his pocket, 
dropped to a boulder and began writing. 

W. B. J., Exeter,” he scribbled. Am at the 
mine. The tapping has stopped. No one else can go 
in, so I am going myself. Please send down operator 
from Ledges to read my tapping if I am unable to 
return. ‘‘ Jennings.” 

‘‘Redding! Whar ’s Red?” shouted Muskoka as 
he folded the message. 

“Here. What?” 

“ I ’m going back to the station for another oper- 
ator. I ’m going to take your Johnny boss. Mine ’s 
Mowed.” 

“ Sure yes,” agreed the owner, and with a “ Good 
luck, kid,” Muskoka was clattering down the path. 

“ Now, Mr. Bartlett, will you please explain the 
plan of things inside; just how the tunnel runs?” 
requested Wilson. 

“ Have a seat and I ’ll draw it,” said the boss, set- 
284 


WILSON AGAIN DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF 


ting the example. He turned the board bearing the 
fragmentary message, and Wilson dropped down be- 
side him. 

“ The main gallery, the old lead, runs straight in, 
at about this dip down,’’ he said, drawing as he spoke. 
‘‘ Runs back 550 feet, and ends. That was where the 
old lead petered out. 

Here, about 200 feet from the entrance, is a verti- 
cal shaft, 90 feet, that we put down to pick up the old 
Pine-Knot lead. It ’s from the foot of that the new 
gallery, the lower level, starts. It slopes off just under 
the old lead — so — 330 feet, there ’s a fault, and it 
cants up 12 feet — so — then on down again at a bit 
sharper dip, nearly 600 feet; then another fault and 
a drop, and about 50 feet more. 

It ’s down there at the end we think most of the 
men have been caught, but some may have been near 
the shaft. The pumping-pipe where Hoover and 
Young must have been tapping is here, half way be- 
tween the first and second faults, where it comes down 
through a boring from the old gallery. It must have 
been at that point, because we had disconnected two 
leaking sections just below there only this morning.” 

How do you get down the shaft to the lower 
level?” Wilson asked. 

‘‘ There was a ladder, but it was smashed by the 
explosion. Hoover, the first man in, came out for 
a rope, so I suppose that ’s there now. Young must 
have gone down by it. 

Hoover also reported that the roof of the old gal- 
285 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


lery was in bad shape just over the shaft. That ’s the 
particular reason we are afraid to blast the rock here 
until we know whether any of the men were caught 
at the bottom of the pit.’’ 

Wilson arose and began removing his collar. 
‘‘ How about water, Mr. Bartlett, since the pump is 
not working? ” he inquired. 

Unless the explosion tapped new water, there ’ll 
be no danger for twenty-four hours at least. But if 
the drain channel of the lower gallery has been filled 
the floor will be very slippery,” the mine boss added. 
‘‘ It ’s slate, and we left it smooth, as a runway for 
the ore boxes.” 

As the young operator removed his spotless collar 
— one similar to that which had so aroused the cow- 
men’s derision on his first day at Bonepile — without 
a smile one of the very men who had formed the 

welcoming committee ” that day rubbed his hands 
on his shirt, took it carefully, and placed it on a clean 
plank. 

You ’ll want a lamp. Somebody give the boy a 
cap and lamp,” the boss directed. A dozen of the 
miners whipped off caps with attached lamps, and 
trying several, Wilson found one to fit. Then, but- 
toning his coat and turning up the collar, he made his 
way to the rock-sealed entrance, and climbed up to 
the narrow opening. 

‘‘ I ’ll tap as soon as I reach the pipe,” he said. “ So 
long ! ” and without more ado crawled head first within 
and disappeared. 


286 


WILSON AGAIN DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF 


The lamp on his cap lighting up the narrow trough- 
like tunnel, Wilson easily wormed his way forward 
ten or twelve feet. Then the passage contracted and 
became broken and twisted. However, given confi- 
dence by the knowledge that others had passed 
through, Wilson squeezed on, there presently came a 
widening of the hole, then a black opening, and with 
a final effort he found himself projecting into the 
black depths of the empty gallery. 

Below him the debris sloped to the floor. Pulling 
himself free, he slid and scrambled down, and quickly 
was on his feet, breathing with relief. Only pausing 
to brush some of the dust from his clothes, Wilson 
hastened forward. 

Two hundred feet distant a windlass took shape in 
the obscurity. He reached it, and the black opening 
of the shaft to the lower level was at his feet. Look- 
ing, he found the rope the mine boss had spoken of. 
It was secured to one of the windlass supports, and 
disappeared into the depths on the opposite side of 
the pit. Directly below was the shattered wreck of 
the ladder. 

Leaning over, Wilson shouted, ‘‘Hello! Hello!” 
The words crashed and echoed in the shaft and about 
him, but there was no reply. Once more he shouted, 
then resolutely suppressing his instinctive shrinking, 
he made his way about to the rope, carefully lowered 
himself, and began descending hand under hand. 

Wilson had not gone far when with apprehension 
he found the rope becoming wet and slippery with 
287 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


drip from the rocks above. Despite a tightened grip 
his hands began to slip. In alarm he wound his feet 
about the rope. Still he slipped. To dry a hand on 
his sleeve, he freed it. Instantly with a cry he found 
himself shooting downward. He clutched with 
hands, feet and knees, but onward he plunged. In 
the light of his lamp the jagged broken timbers of 
the shoring shot up by him. He would be dashed to 
pieces. 

But desperately he fought, and at last got the rope 
clamped against the corner of a heel, and the speed 
was retarded. A moment after he landed with an 
impact that broke his hold on the rope and sent him 
in a heap on his back. 

Rising, Wilson thankfully discovered he had es- 
caped injury other than a few bruises, and gazed 
about him. At first sight he appeared to be in the 
bottom of a well filled with broken water-soaked tim- 
bers and gray, dripping rock. He knew there must 
be an exit, however, and set about looking for it, at 
the same time listening and watching shrinkingly for 
signs of anyone buried in the heap of stone and timber. 
Not a sound save the monotonous drip of seeping 
water was to be heard, however, and presently behind 
a shield of planking he located the black mouth of a 
small opening. 

Dropping to his knees, he crawled through, and 
stood upright in a downward sloping gallery similar 
to that above — the ‘‘ lower level.’’ 

Once more he shouted. ‘‘Hello! Hello!” The 
288 


WILSON AGAIN DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF 


clashing echoes died away without response, and he 
started forward. 

Scarcely had he taken a half dozen steps when with- 
out warning his feet shot from under him and he went 
down on his back with a crash, barely saving his head 
with his hands. The smooth hard rock was as slip- 
pery as ice from the water flowing over it. Wondering 
if this icy declivity had anything to do with the failure 
of Hoover and Young to return, Wilson arose and 
went on more cautiously. 

As he proceeded the walking became more and more 
treacherous. Several times he again went down, 
saving himself by sinking onto his outstretched 
hands. 

On rising from one of these falls Wilson discovered 
something which sent him ahead with new concern. 
A few yards farther he halted with an exclamation on 
the brink of a yellow stretch of water that met the 
gallery roof twenty feet beyond him. 

Blankly he gazed at it. Then he recalled the 

fault ” the mine boss had spoken of — an abrupt 
rise of the gallery twelve feet. This must be it. Its 
drain had choked, and filled it with water. 

But both Hoover and Young had passed it! The 
pipe they had tapped upon was beyond. They must 
have waded boldly in, dove or ducked down, and come 
up on the other side. At the thought of following 
them in this Wilson drew back. Had he not better 
return ? 

Could he, though? Could he ascend a rope down 
289 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


which he had been unable to prevent himself sliding? 
The answer was obvious. 

Desperately Wilson decided to venture the water, 
to reach those he now knew were on the other side, 
and the pumping-pipe. In preparation he first securely 
wrapped the matches he carried in notepaper taken 
from an envelope, and placed them in the top of the 
miner’s hat. Then removing his shoes, to give him 
firmer footing, he stepped into the yellow pool and 
carefully made his way forward. Six feet from the 
point at which the water met the top of the gallery 
the water was up to his chin, and he saw he must swim 
for it, and dive. Without pause, lest he should lose 
his nerve, he struck out, reached the roof, took a deep 
breath, and ducked down. 

Three quick, hard strokes, and he arose, and with 
a gasp found himself at the surface again. A few 
strokes onward in the darkness, and his hands met 
a rough wall, over which the water was draining as 
over the brink of a dam. 

At the same moment a sound of dull blows reached 
his ears. Spluttering and blinking, Wilson drew him- 
self up. A shout broke from him. Far distant and 
below was a point of light. 

Hello ! ” he cried. Immediately came a chorus of 
response, as though many were excitedly shouting at 
once. Unable to distinguish anything from the jangle 
of echoes, Wilson cried back, Are you all safe?” 

Again came the clashing, incomprehensible shout. 

I ’m coming down,” he called, though not sure 

290 


WILSON AGAIN DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF 


that they heard him. Producing the matches from the 
crown of the hat, he found they had come through 
dry, and after some difficulty lighting one against the 
side of another, he re-lit the lamp. While at this, 
voices continued to come up to him, evidently shout- 
ing something. But try as he could he was unable 
to make out what was said. It was all a reverberating 
clamor, as though a hundred people were talking at 
once. 

As the lamp spluttered up, after the ducking which 
had extinguished it, Wilson gazed down the gallery 
before him with a touch of new dismay. The water 
was flowing over it in a thin, glossy coat, and it was 
considerably steeper than on the outer side of the fault. 
Apparently the only thing to do was to slide. 

Working about into a sitting position, facing down 
the slope, with feet spread out, as though steering a 
sleigh, Wilson allowed himself to go. The rapidity 
with which he gained momentum startled him. Soon 
the gray damp walls were passing upward like a glis- 
tening mist. With difficulty he kept his feet foremost. 

Meantime the voices from below had continued 
shouting. Onward he slid, and the sounds became 
clearer. At last the words came to him. They were, 
‘‘ The pipe ! The pipe ! Catch the pump-pipe ! ’’ Then 
Wilson suddenly recollected that the pipe was but half 
way down the slope. 

Digging with his heels he sought to slow up, gazing 
first at one flitting wall, then the other. On the right 
a vertical streak of black appeared. He clutched with 
291 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


heels and hands, and sought to steer toward it. He 
swept nearer, and reached with outstretched hand. 
The effort swung him sideways, his fingers just grazed 
the iron, and twisting about, he shot downward head 
first at greater speed than ever. A moment after there 
was a chorus of shouts, a sharp cry in his ears, an 
impact, a rolling and tumbling, a second crash, and 
Wilson felt himself dragged to his feet. 

About him, in a single flickering light, was a group 
of strange faces. While he gazed, dazed, rubbing a 
bruised head, all talked excitedly, even angrily. 

Why did n't you hang on, you idiot ? " demanded 
a voice. 

‘‘ Who is it, anyway? It 's a stranger! " 

And a boy ! " said another. 

Wilson recovered his scattered wits, and quickly ex- 
plained who he was and what he had come for. Im- 
mediately there was a joyful shout. We 'll be out 
inside of an hour! " cried one. 

But how am I going to get up to the pipe? ” de- 
manded Wilson. 

'' We are cutting footholds up the incline. 

White, get back on the job," directed the speaker, 
who Wilson later learned was the fire-boss. 

You brought him down with you," he added, to 
the boy. 

The man spoken to began creeping up the water- 
covered slope dragging a pick, and Wilson turned to 
look about him. The eleven men in the party, not in- 
cluding the man on the slope, were crowded together 
292 


WILSQN AGAIN DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF 


on the level floor of what evidently was the lower 
fault of the lead. From the darkness beyond came the 
sound of water trickling to a lower level. 

Are all here, and no one hurt? he asked. 

Hoover and Young, and everybody, and not one 
scratched,'' responded the fire-boss. ‘‘ You were the 
one nearest hurt. 

‘‘ You were a mighty plucky youngster," he added, 
“ to come through that water up there." 

Wilson interrupted a chorus of hearty assent. 
‘‘ What happened to Hoover and Young at the 
pipe?" he inquired. That mystified everybody out- 
side." 

‘‘ They both caught it coming down, but Hoover 
lost his hold trying to change hands for tapping, and 
Young dropped the knife he was knocking with, and 
slipped fishing for it," the fire-boss explained. 

Meantime at the entrance to the mine, a half hour 
having passed without a knocking on the pipe to an- 
nounce the arrival inside of the young operator, anx- 
iety began to be felt for his safety also. When another 
half hour had passed, and there was still no response 
to frequent tappings of inquiry, the mine-boss, Bart- 
lett, began to stride up and down before the blocked 
entrance. I should n't have allowed him to go in," 
he muttered repeatedly. ‘‘ He was only a boy." 

When at length Muskoka Jones reappeared on the 
scene, and with him the operator from Ledges, Bart- 
lett met them with a gloomy face. At that very mo- 
ment, however, there was a shout from the men 
293 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


gathered about the pumping-pipe. He 's knocking ! ’’ 

cried a voice. 

Bartlett, Muskoka and the Ledges operator went 
forward on the run. The latter dropped to his knees 
and placed his ear to the pipe. At the quick smile of 
comprehension which came into his face a great cheer 
went up. It was immediately stilled by a gesture from 
the operator, and in tense silence he caught up a 
stone, tapped back a signal, then read aloud Wilson’s 
strangely telegraphed words of the safety of the men 
below, their situation, and the means to be taken to 
reach them. 

And just at sunset the bedraggled but joyful, cheer- 
ing party of rescuers and rescued emerged from the 
entrance — Wilson to a reception he will remember 
as long as he lives. 

The most important result of Wilson’s courage and 
resourcefulness, however, was an interview Alex Ward 
had that evening at Exeter with the division superin- 
tendent. Following a recital of Wilson’s feat at the 
mine, Alex added: ‘'You said last week, Mr. Cam- 
eron, that I might suggest a third operator for the 
Yellow Creek construction ‘ advance guard ’ of op- 
erators. I ’d like to suggest Jennings, sir.” 

“ He is appointed, then,” said the superintendent. 
“ Go and tell him yourself.” 


294 


V 


XVIII 

WITH THE CONSTRUCTION TRAIN 

O N a newly-made siding parallel to the main-line 
tracks, and in the center of a rolling vista of 
yellow-brown prairie, stood a trampish-looking train 
of weather-beaten passenger coaches and box-cars. 
In the sides of the latter small windows had been cut, 
and from the roofs projected chimneys. North of the 
train, to a din of clanking, pounding and shoveling, 
a throng of men were laying ties and rails, driving 
spikes and tightening bolts, in the construction of 
further short stretches of track. 

It was the Yellow Creek branch ‘‘ boarding ’’ and 
construction train, and the laying of the sidings of the 
newly-created Yellow Creek Junction was the first step 
in the race of the Middle Western and the K. & Z., 
some miles below the southern horizon, for the just- 
discernible break to the south-west in the blue line of 
the Dog Rib Mountains — the coveted entrance to 
the new gold fields in the valley beyond. 

And here, the first of the construction operators 
sent forward, Alex had been two days established in 
the “ telegraph-car.’’ 


295 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


As he had anticipated, Alex was enjoying the expe- 
rience hugely. It was every bit as good as camping 
out, he had declared over the wire to Jack — having 
for an office a table at one end of the old freight-car, 
sleeping in a shelf-like bunk at the other end, and eat- 
ing in the rough-and-ready diner with the inspectors, 
foremen, time-keepers and clerks who shared the tele- 
graph-car with him. As well, the work going on about 
him was a constant source of interest during Alex’s 
spare moments. 

On this, the second day, Alex had been particularly 
interested in the newly-arrived track-laying machine — 
which did not actually lay track at all, but by means 
of roller-bottomed chutes fed out a stream of rails and 
ties to the men ahead of it. After supper, the wire 
being silent, Alex made his way amid several trains 
of track-material already filling completed sidings, for 
a closer view of the big machine. 

There proved to be less to see than he had expected ; 
and having climbed aboard the pilot-car and examined 
the engine, Alex ascended the tower from which a 
brakeman controlled the movements of the train. 

On his right lay a string of flats piled high with 
timbers for bridges and culverts. Glancing along 
them, Alex was surprised to see a man’s head cau- 
tiously emerge from an opening in the lumber on one 
of the cars, and quickly disappear on discovering him. 
A moment after he had a fleeting glimpse of the in- 
truder running low along the side of the train toward 
the rear. 


296 


WITH THE CONSTRUCTION TRAIN 


Only a hobo/’ Alex decided on second thought. 
For numbers of tramps had come through on the 
material-trains. And presently Alex returned to the 
telegraph-car. 

Shortly after midnight the young operator was 
awakened by someone running through the car and 
shouting for Construction Superintendent Finnan. 
When he’ caught the word ‘‘ Fire! ” he scrambled into 
his clothes and leaped to the floor, and out. 

Over the tops of the cars in the direction of the 
track-machine was a dancing glare. 

In alarm Alex joined the stream of men dropping 
to the ground all along the boarding-cars. Dodging 
through the intervening trains, he brought up with an 
expression of relief beside, not the track-machine, but 
a car of bridge material. 

Fanned by a brisk wind, flames were spouting from 
amid the timbers at several points. Already men were 
pitching the burning beams over the side, however; 
and finding a shovel, Alex joined those who were 
smothering them with sand. 

‘‘ Tramps, sure! ” Alex heard another of the shovel- 
ers remark angrily. Immediately then he recalled 
the man he had seen from the track-machine 
tower, and pausing in his work, he counted the cars 
back. 

It was the same car. Yes ; undoubtedly the fire was 
the careless work of the tramp he had seen running 
away. 

The force of fire fighters was rapidly augmented, 
297 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

and soon, despite the fresh breeze, the last of the burn- 
ing beams were smothered, and all danger of a general 
conflagration was past. 

It was as Alex at last headed back for the boarding- 
train that a theory other than the tramp theory of the 
origin of the fire occurred to him. It came from a 
sudden recollection of Division Superintendent Cam- 
eron’s prediction of interference from the K. 8i Z. 
‘‘ Could that be the real explanation? ” he asked him- 
self with some excitement. 

The first streak of dawn found Alex again at the 
scene of the fire, bent on proving or disproving the 
theory of incendiarism. Climbing aboard the scorched 
car, he dropped to his knees and began carefully brush- 
ing aside the sand with which the burning floor had 
been covered. 

A few minutes’ search produced the burned ends of 
shavings ! 

‘‘ So ! — the ‘ fight ’ is on ! ” observed Alex to him- 
self gravely. 

With several of the tell-tale fragments in his pocket 
Alex was about to leap to the ground when Construc- 
tion Superintendent Finnan appeared. Good morn- 
ing, my lad. You beat me here, eh? ” he said genially. 

Well, what do you make of it? ” 

Alex sprang down beside him, and produced the 
charred pine whittlings. ‘‘ I found these on the bottom 
of the car, sir. They don’t seem to support the care- 
less tramp theory, do they?” Continuing, Alex then 
told of the man he had seen there the evening before. 
298 


WITH THE CONSTRUCTION TRAIN 


‘‘ Do you think it was the work of the K. & Z., sir? ’’ 
he concluded. 

The superintendent’s lips were drawn tight. Yes; 
I believe it was. Could you identify the man?” 

‘‘ I am afraid not, sir. It was getting dusk, and he 
was five or six car-lengths from me, and running 
stooped over. 

“ Perhaps we could follow his footsteps down the 
side of the train ? ” Alex suggested. 

‘‘ Good idea ! Lead ahead. There has been a good 
deal of tramping about, but we may pick them out.” 
. Proceeding to the point several cars distant at which 
he had seen the stranger on the ground, Alex moved 
on slowly, carefully inspecting the freshly turned but 
considerably trampled earth, the superintendent fol- 
lowing him. 

A car-length beyond, the latter suddenly paused, re- 
traced his steps a few feet, and pointing out three 
succeeding impressions, exclaimed, I think we have 
him, Ward! See? A long step! He was running 
on his toes.” 

Aided by the known length of the stride, they con- 
tinued, following the footprints with comparative ease. 
Passing the second car from the end, they found the 
steps shorten, then change to a walk. Probably 
turned in between this and the last car,” the superin- 
tendent observed. 

‘‘Yes; here they go,” announced Alex, halting at 
the opening between the two flats. “ He stood for a 
moment, then went on through.” 

299 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Alex and the superintendent followed, and continued 
toward the rear of the last car. Half way Alex halted, 
and with an ejaculation stooped and picked up some- 
thing white. “ A small shaving, sir ! ’’ 

The official took it. That decides the matter,'’ he 
said. ‘‘ Probably it was sticking to his clothes." 

‘'He sat down here, for some time, did he not?" 
Alex was pointing to a depression in the earth well 
under the car, between two ties, and to the marks of 
bootheels. The superintendent went to his knees and 
closely examined the impressions left by the heels. 

“Good! Look here," he said with satisfaction. 
“ The marks of spurs ! Our ‘ tramp ' was a horseman." 

Alex turned to look about. “ Where would he have 
kept his horse? " 

Superintendent Finnan led the way beyond the cars 
into the. Open. A mile distant, and hidden from the 
boarding-train by the cars on the sidings, was a de- 
pression in the prairie bordered with low scrub. 
“ We 'll have a look there," he said. 

Some minutes later they stood in the bottom of the 
miniature valley, beside the unmistakably fresh hoof- 
prints of a hobbled pony. 

The official was grimly silent as they retraced their 
steps toward the construction-train. They had almost 
reached it when Alex, who had been examining the 
fragments of burned shavings, broke the silence. 
“ Mr. Finnan, let me see the bit of shaving we found 
by the rear car, please." There was a touch of ex- 
citement in Alex's voice, and the superintendent halted. 
300 


WITH THE CONSTRUCTION TRAIN 


What is it?’’ he asked as he produced the whit- 
tling. 

Alex glanced at it, and smiling, placed it beside two 
of the charred fragments in his hand. Look at these 
little ridges, sir! The same knife whittled them all. 
The blade had two small nicks in it. 

‘‘ All we have to do now, sir, is to find the owner of 
the knife ! ” 

“ A bright idea. Ward! Splendid! ” exclaimed the 
superintendent heartily. 

‘‘But,” he added as they moved on, “how are we go- 
ing to find him? We can’t very well round up the whole 
Dog Rib country, and hold a jack-knife inspection.” 

They came within sight of the bleached-out dining- 
cars. Basking in the morning sun on the steps of one 
of the old coaches was the figure of a young Indian, 
who had come from no one knew where the first day 
of their arrival, and had attached himself to the kitchen 
department. 

Alex laid his hand on the superintendent’s arm. 
“ Mr. Finnan, why not try Little Hawk? ” ^ 

“ It occurred to me just as you spoke. I will. 
Right now. 

“ You go on in to breakfast. Ward,” he directed. 
“And say nothing of our suspicions or discoveries.” 

“ Very well, sir.” 

The members of the telegraph-car party were leav- 
ing for the diner as Alex appeared. 

“ Hello, Ward! Catch the early worm?” inquired 
one of the track-foremen jocularly. 

301 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


You mean, ‘ did he shoot it? ’ ’’ corrected a time- 
clerk. 

At this there was a general laugh, and glancing 
about for an explanation, Alex saw Elder, Superin- 
tendent Finnan’s personal clerk and aide de camp, 
hastily remove a cartridge-belt and revolver from his 
waist and toss them into his bunk. 

Elder was the one unpopular man in the telegraph- 
car. An undersized, aggressively important individ- 
ual, just out of college, and affecting a stylish khaki 
hunting-suit, natty leather leggings and a broad- 
brimmed hat, he bore himself generally as though 
second in importance only to the construction superin- 
tendent himself. And naturally he had promptly been 
made the butt of the party. 

But you know,” gravely observed one of the in- 
spectors, as they took their places about the plain board 
table in the dining-car, ‘‘ some of these tramps are 
dangerous fellows. They ’d just as soon pull a gun 
on you as borrow a dime. So there ’s nothing like 
being prepared. Particularly when one carries about 
such evidence of wealth and rank as friend Elder, 
here.” 

At the chuckles which followed the clerk bridled 
angrily. 

Well, anyway, Ryan,” he retorted, I am ready 
to fight if one of them interferes with me. I ’ll not 
stick up my hands and let him go through me, as you 
did once.” 

Oh, you would n’t, eh ? ” 

302 


WITH THE CONSTRUCTION TRAIN 

"‘No, I would n't. In fact, I 'd like to see anyone 
make me throw up my hands, even if I did n't have 
a revolver," Elder went on emphatically. “ I 'd rather 
be shot — yes, sir, I 'd rather be shot than have to 
think afterward that I 'd been such a weak-kneed cow- 
ard. And that 's what I think of any man who would 
permit a low-down tramp to go through his pockets." 

Loud applause greeted these remarks, clapping, 
banging of plates, and cries of “ Hear, hear ! " 

“ Go it, Elder!" 

“ Show him up ! " 

“ It 's on me. He has me labelled, O K," admitted 
Ryan with marked humility. “ But then, gentlemen, 
I protest it is hardly fair to compare an ordinary mor- 
tal to so remarkably courageous a man as Elder. I 
claim it is not given many men to be that fearless. 
Why, " with half an eye,' as the old grammars say, 
you can see courage sticking out all over him." 

“ All right, laugh. But I never showed the white 
feather to a hobo," Elder repeated scathingly. 

“No; but — what is it Kipling, or Shakespeare, 
says ? — " While there 's life there 's soap? ' " observed 
Ryan, a sudden twinkle appearing in his eye. 

The inspector explained the meaning of his face- 
tiously garbled quotation when Elder left the table. 
The proposal he made was greeted with enthusiasm. 

Work had been started on the branch road itself that 
morning, and on returning to the telegraph-car at noon 
the superintendent's clerk found most of the party there 
before him, preparing for dinner. An animated de- 
303 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


bate which was in progress ceased as he entered, and 
someone exclaimed, ‘‘ Here he is now. He ’d soon 
straighten them up.’’ 

What is the trouble, men?” inquired Elder, with 
the air of a sergeant-major. 

Our two head-spikers had a disagreement this 
morning, and have gone across the yards to settle it,” 
explained one of the time-keepers through his towel. 
‘‘ Could n’t you go after them, and interfere ? They 
may put each other out of commission. Refused to 
listen to me or the foreman.” 

The childish idiots ! Certainly,” agreed Elder, 
turning back to the door. ‘‘ Which way did they 
go?” 

Straight across the yard. But had n’t you better 
take your gun?” the time-clerk suggested. ‘‘They 
are a pair of pretty tough customers.” 

“ Well — perhaps I had, since you mention it,” El- 
der responded. Going to his bunk, he secured and 
buckled on the belt, drew the revolver from its holster 
to examine it, and set forth grimly. As he disap- 
peared the men in the car broke into barely-subdued 
splutterings of laughter, and crowding to the door, 
waited expectantly. ■ 

With an air of responsibility and determination the 
clerk made his way between the adjacent cars. There 
were six tracks filled with the long trains of construc- 
tion material. He had passed the fifth, and was stoop- 
ing beneath the couplings of two flats beyond, when 
from the other side he heard footsteps. 

304 


WITH THE CONSTRUCTION TRAIN 


One hand on the butt of his revolver, he leaped 
forth. Uttering a choking cry he sprang back. 
Within a foot of his eyes were the barrels of two big 
Colt’s-pistols, and looking over the tops of them was 
a villainous handkerchief-masked face. 

“ Hands up ! ’’ ordered the tramp hoarsely. 

Elder’s hands flew into the air. Immediately, de- 
spite his fright, there returned a remembrance of his 
boast that morning. He half made as though to bring 
his hands down. Instantly the cold muzzles of the 
pistols were pressed close beneath his nose. With a 
wild flutter Elder’s fingers shot upward to their fullest 
stretch. 

“ Come out ! ” ordered the tramp. 

Quaking, and almost on tiptoes in his effort to keep 
his hands aloft. Elder obeyed. Lowering one of the 
pistols and thrusting it into his belt, the tramp reached 
forward and secured the clerk’s revolver, dropping it 
to the ground beneath his feet. 

‘‘ Now, Mr. Superintendent,” he ordered gruffly, 

hand over your roll ! ” 

Why, I ’m not the superintendent,” quavered El- 
der hopefully. “ I am — only a clerk.” 

‘‘ Clerk nothing ! Don’t you think I know a super- 
intendent when I see one? Out with those yellow- 
backs you drew yesterday, or by gum — ” The pistol 
was again thrust under his nose, and Elder blanched. 

But I ’m not the superintendent ! Honestly I ’m 
not ! ” he protested. I ’m only a clerk. And I only 
get — only get — ” 


305 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Yes, come on! You only get?” thundered the 
tramp. 

‘‘ I only get thirty-five dollars a month,” whispered 
the clerk. 

Only thirty-five bones a month ? Well, by gum ! ” 
The tramp looked the shrinking clerk over with un- 
speakable contempt. Why, there ain't a Dago 
shoveler in the outfit does n't get more than that ! 

Very well, then,” he conceded loftily. ‘‘ You can 
keep your coppers. I never let it be said I rob the 
poor. 

But I tell you what I will have,” he went on sud- 
denly. Them clothes are sure too good for any 
man not getting as much money as a Dago. These,” 
indicating his own tattered and grimy garments, are 
more in your line. Come on ! Peel off ! ” 

The trimly-dressed clerk stared aghast. 

‘‘ You surely — don't mean — ” 

I surely DO mean! Shell off I ” roared the tramp. 

And utterly beyond belief as it was, ten minutes 
later Elder was surveying himself in the unspeakable 
rags of the hobo, and the latter, before him, was ridic- 
ulously attired in his own natty, smaller garments. 

Having then removed Elder's fancy Stetson and 
clamped his own greasy and battered christy down to 
the clerk's ears, the tramp had one further humiliation. 
Pointing to a clump of black, oily waste hanging from 
a nearby axle-box, he ordered, Pull out a bunch of 
that!” 

Slowly, wondering. Elder did so. 

306 


WITH THE CONSTRUCTION TRAIN 


‘‘No one would believe you were a genuine hobo 
with such a scandalously clean face as that. Rub the 
waste over it/’ commanded the tramp. 

This was too much. Blindly Elder turned to escape. 
Instantly both pistols were once more at his head. And 
in final abject surrender he slowly rubbed the black 
car-grease upon his cheeks. 

“ Very good. A little on the forehead now/’ di- 
rected the relentless tramp. “ Now the ears. 

“ Go on! , . . Very good. 

“ Now you may go.” 

Frantically Elder spun about and dove between the 
cars. As he did so, behind him roared out six quick 
pistol shots. 

Blindly he scrambled under the next train. Shouts 
rose ahead of him. “ Help, help ! ” he cried. 
“ Tramps ! Tramps ! Help ! ” 

From the boarding-cars broke out a hubbub of ex- 
citement. “ Tramps! Tramps! ” he shrilled, scuttling 
beneath the third train. 

On the other side he suddenly pulled up. He had 
forgotten his outlandish appearance ! What if — 

Men sprang into view from between the cars farther 
down. “ Here he is ! ” they shouted, instantly heading 
for him. 

“ It ’s me ! Elder ! ” cried the apparent tramp. 

More men appeared. “ The tramp who burned the 
car! ” rose the cry. “ Lynch him ! Lynch him ! ” 

Elder dove back the way he had come. The track- 
men raced for the nearest openings, and dove after. 
307 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


As Elder dashed for the next train several of his 
pursuers sprang into view but a car-length away. 

Head him off ! Don’t let him get away ! ” they 
shouted. 

Madly Elder rushed on, darted beneath the last 
string of flats, and on out into the open. 

A figure was approaching on horseback. He recog- 
nized Superintendent Finnan. Uttering a cry of hope, 
he headed for him. At sight of the desperately run- 
ning figure, with its grimy face and flapping rags, the 
superintendent pulled up in sheer amazement. When 
the stream of men broke through the train and poured 
after, yelping like a pack of hounds, he urged his 
horse forward. 

Catch him ! Stop him ! ” shouted the pursuers. 

‘‘It’s me! Elder!” screamed the clerk. “Elder! 
Elder!” 

A big Irishman, a pick-handle in his hand, was gain- 
ing on the supposed tramp at every bound, roaring, 
“ I ’ll fix ye ! I ’ll fix ye, ye vermin ! ” 

With a last desperate sprint the flying clerk reached 
the horse and threw himself at the superintendent’s 
stirrups. “It’s Elder, Mr. Finnan!” he gasped. 
“Elder! Elder!” 

The superintendent gazed down into the blackened 
face an instant, then suddenly doubled up over his 
horse’s head, rocking and shaking in a convulsion of 
laughter. The action saved the clerk from the Irish- 
man. The descending pick-handle halted in mid-air, 
the wielder gazed open-mouthed at the convulsed 
308 


WITH THE CONSTRUCTION TRAIN 

official, then suddenly grasping the clerk's head, 
twisted it about, and staggered back, roaring and 
shouting at the top of his lungs. As fast as the others 
arrived the riot of merriment increased; and when 
presently the superintendent moved on toward the 
train, the crestfallen clerk still at his stirrup, they were 
the center of a hilariously howling mob. 

The final blow came when Elder entered the tele- 
graph-car. Carefully laid out in his bunk were the 
garments he had surrendered to the ‘‘ tramp." 

The incident had its final good result, however. 
The mangling of Elder's vanity disclosed an unsus- 
pected streak of common-sense and manliness, and a 
day or so after he frankly thanked Ryan, the perpe- 
trator of the joke, for having put him right." And 
finally he became one of the most popular men on the 
train. 


XIX 


THE enemy's hand AGAIN, AND A CAPTURE 

OOD morning, Ward. Any word of the prog- 



ress made by the K. & Z. ? " inquired Con- 


struction Superintendent Finnan the following morn- 
ing, Sunday, looking into the telegraph-car. 

Alex threw down his towel and stepped to the in- 
strument table. Yes, sir; here 's one that came late 
last night. 

‘‘ It says they started from Red Deer yesterday 
morning, and made nearly three and a half miles." 

The superintendent looked somewhat glum as he 
read the message. That beats us by half a mile," 
he remarked. ‘‘ If the news is reliable, that is. They 
may plan to give out inflated distances, in order to dis- 
courage us. That would be a small matter to them, 
after trying to burn us out." 

‘‘ There has been no sign of Little Hawk yet, sir? " 
Alex inquired. 

No. I am beginning to think the rascal has gone 
over to the K. & Z.," said the superintendent, turning 
away. At the door he paused. By the way. Ward, 
remind me to give you a message to-morrow morn- 
ing asking for two more operators. We will have 
made six or seven miles by Monday night, and will 


310 


THE ENEMY’S HAND AGAIN 


be running the train down the branch. And the tem- 
porary station is almost completed,” he added, glan- 
cing from the window toward a box-car which had 
been lifted from its trucks and placed on a foundation 
of ties beside the main-line tracks. 

Alex promised gladly. It meant the coming of Jack 
Orr and Wilson Jennings. 

Following breakfast, the morning being a beautiful 
one, Alex determined on a walk, and set ofif along the 
main-line to the west. Two miles distant he struck 
a small bridge and a deep, dry creek-bed, and turning 
south along its border, headed for the distant rail- 
head of the new branch. 

At a bend in the creek some two hundred yards 
from the track-machine and its string of flat-cars, Alex 
sharply paused. Two saddled ponies were hobbled to- 
gether in the creek-bottom. Casting a glance toward 
the construction-train, Alex leaped into the gully, out 
of sight. 

He had not a doubt that the horses belonged to men 
in the service of the K. & Z., and that something was 
on foot similar to the attempted burning of the bridge- 
car. 

What should he do? Return the three miles to the 
junction? or continue on to the track-machine? For 
undoubtedly the owners of the horses were there ; and 
the machine, he knew, was in the sole charge of an 
oiler. 

Alex decided on the latter course, and making his 
way along the bed of the stream, passed the hobbled 
311 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


ponies, and on to the new bridge fifty feet in rear of 
the construction-train. 

As he there halted, low voices reached Alex’s ears. 
Peering cautiously out, and seeing no one, he crept 
forth, and made his way along the side of the em- 
bankment toward the train. A few feet from the rear 
car Alex came upon a three-wheeled track velocipede, 
used by Elder, the superintendent’s clerk in running 
backwards and forwards between the rail-head and the 
junction. Pausing, he debated whether he should not 
put it on the rails, and make a run for the junction 
immediately. Finally Alex concluded first to learn 
something further of what was going on, and to count 
on the velocipede as a means of making his escape in 
case of emergency. To this end he proceeded cau- 
tiously to place the little jigger in a position from 
which he could quickly swing it onto the irons. Then 
continuing forward under the edge of the train, he 
reached the pilot-car. 

''Yes; it’s a first class machine — the best on the 
market.” 

The voice was that of the oiler. Apparently he had 
been showing the strangers over the track-machine. 
For a brief space Alex wondered whether after all 
his suspicions were justified. But at once came the 
thought, " Why had the strangers hidden their horses 
in the creek-bottom if they were genuine visitors?” 
and he remained quiet. 

" Where is the boiler ? ” inquired a new voice, evi- 
dently one of the owners of the horses. 

312 


THE ENEMY^S HAND AGAIN 


There is none. The steam comes from the en- 
gine, behind,’’ the oiler responded. ‘‘ Here — it comes 
in here.” 

‘‘ So ! And does the machine get out of order very 
easily? ” asked a second voice. 

There was something in the tone that caused Alex 
to prick up his ears. 

‘‘ Almost never. It ’s all simple. Nothing intri- 
cate,” the man in charge replied. 

‘‘ I suppose it could be put out of order, though — 
say, you fellows were to go on strike, and wanted to 
disable things ? Eh ? ” 

‘‘ Huh ! That ’s rather a funny question. But I 
suppose it could. Anything could, for that matter.” 

'' What do they pay you, as oiler? ” 

‘‘ Say, what are you two fellows driving at?” the 
oiler demanded sharply. 

There was a momentary silence, during which Alex 
imagined the two strangers looking questioningly at 
one another. Then one of them spoke. 

‘‘ Look here, whatever you get, we will give you a 
hundred dollars a month extra to put this machine 
out of order two or three times a week. Nothing very 
bad, but just enough to lose two or three hours’ work 
each time. We are — well, never mind who we are. 
The thing stands this way : We have a big bet on that 
the K. & Z. will win in this building race for Yellow 
Creek, and — well, you see the point, I guess. What 
do you say? ” 

During the pause that followed Alex waited breath- 
313 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


lessly, and with growing disappointment. Was the 
oiler considering the bribe ? 

Well/’ said the oiler at length, ‘‘ is that your best 
offer ? Could n’t you make it a thousand ? ” 

A thousand ! Nonsense — ” 

Two thousand, then.” 

‘‘ What do you mean — ” 

Just this ! ” cried the oiler, and simultaneously 
there was a rush of feet and a sound of blows. Ex- 
ultingly Alex was scrambling forth to go to the oiler’s 
assistance, when just above him was a crash of fall- 
ing bodies, and a figure bounded over the side of the 
car and rolled sprawling down the ernbankment. 

It was the plucky oiler, and Alex shrank back in 
horror as the man came to a stop flat on his back, and 
lay immovable, blood trickling from a wound over his 
eyes. 

Overhead was the sound of someone getting to their 
feet. He nearly got you,” said a voice. 

^‘Nearly. But I guess I ^got him’ one better.” 

Is he safe for awhile, do you think? ” 

As the two men moved to the edge of the car and 
apparently gazed down at the prostrate figure in the 
ditch, Alex shrank back with apprehension on his own 
account. 

Perhaps we ’d better make sure of him.” 

All right. Here is a bit of rope.” 

Hurriedly Alex crawled beneath the nearby truck, 
behind the wheels, and a tall figure in the garb of a 
cowboy dropped to the ground before him and ran 
314 


THE ENEMY’S HAND AGAIN 


down to the still unconscious oiler. Binding the pros- 
trate man’s feet together at the ankles, the cowman 
turned the oiler on his face, and secured his hands 
behind his back. Turning him again face up, he stud- 
ied his eyes a moment, and announcing, ‘‘ Good job. 
Only stunned,” he returned to the car and drew him- 
self up on it. 

Now what’ll we do?” inquired his companion. 
‘‘ That idiot has knocked our plans to pieces. We 
can’t go back and say we neither made the deal, nor 
did anything e^se for our money.” 

‘‘ We ’ll have to tear things up ourselves,” said the 
first man decisively. Let us see what we can do in 
the engine-room here.” 

The footsteps passed into the engine-house, and 
Alex at once crawled forth, to make his way back 
to the velocipede. 

As he emerged from beneath the car he paused to 
glance down at the prostrate oiler. Should he leave 
him lying there? It did not seem right, despite the 
obvious necessity of heading for the junction without 
a moment’s delay. 

As he hesitated, the eyes of the prostrate man flick- 
ered, and opened. Alex dodged back, lest the oiler 
should betray his presence to the men on the car. As 
he dropped down there came the recollection that there 
were two seats on the velocipede. Why not take the 
man with him, if he sufficiently recovered? Good! 

Anxiously Alex watched as the stunned man blinked 
about him. Finally comprehension, then a hot flush of 
315 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

rage appeared in the oiler's face, and with a violent 
kick he twisted about toward the car. 

^ Springing into view, Alex caught the oiler's startled 
eye, and made a warning gesture. The man stared 
dully for a moment, then nodded, and on Alex's 
further urgent signalling, dropped back and again 
closed his eyes. Alex produced and opened his jack- 
knife. 

The men above were busily fumbling about in the 
engine-room. Only pausing to make sure they were 
entirely occupied, Alex slipped forth, cautiously crept 
down the embankment, reached the bound man, and 
with a slash of the knife freed his feet and hands. 

Let us slip back to the velocipede — it 's ready to 
throw on the rails — and make a dash of it for the 
junction," Alex whispered. The oiler arose, and with 
one eye on the engine-room door they crept up under 
the edge of the car, and on toward the rear of the 
train. 

They reached the little track-car, and cautiously 
lifted it onto the rails. 

‘‘ Better push it a ways," the oiler advised in a low 
voice. They might hear the rumble, with our weight 
on it." 

Gently they set the velocipede in motion. With the 
first move one of the wheels gave forth a shrill screech. 
The two paused as the sounds on the pilot-car imme- 
diately ceased. 

‘‘ If we hear one of them going to the edge to look 
for me, we 'll make a run of it," said the oiler. 

316 


THE ENEMY’S HAND AGAIN 


“ They may go on tiptoe,” Alex pointed out. 

The suggestion was followed by a sharp exclamation 
from the head of the train. ''The oiler’s gone!” 
cried a voice. Simultaneously there was the sound of 
someone springing to the ground, and Alex and the 
oiler scrambled into the velocipede seats, Alex facing 
the rear, and threw themselves against the handles. 
The oilless wheel again screeched, and from the pilot- 
car rose the cry, " Around at the end ! Quick ! ” 

Alex and the oiler wrenched the handles backwards 
and forwards with all their might, and the little car 
leaped ahead. Before they had gained full headway, 
however, one of the machine-wreckers appeared about 
the end of the train, and with a cry to his companion, 
dashed after. He ran like a deer, and despite the 
increasing speed of the velocipede, quickly gained 
upon them. 

" He ’ll get us ! ” Alex exclaimed. 

" The creek bridge is just ahead. That ’ll stop him,” 
said the oiler. 

The second man appeared, and joined in the chase. 

The first runner saw the bridge, and redoubled his 
efforts. In spite of their best endeavors, he drew 
rapidly nearer. A hand shot out to clutch the oiler’s 
shoulder. 

It reached him — and with a rumble they were on 
and over the bridge, and their pursuer had sprawled 
forward flat on his face. 

He was on his feet again like a wildcat, however, 
and crossing the bridge three ties at a time, leaped to 
317 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


the flat ground beside the track, and was again after 
the velocipede like a race-horse. 

Try as they would, Alex and the oiler could get no 
more speed out of the low-geared machine, and with 
alarm Alex saw the runner once more drawing near. 
The second man they had outdistanced. 

Closer the cowman came. ‘‘Stop!’’ he shouted. 

Stop! You may as well! I ’ve got you! ” 

Determinedly they held on, working the handles 
desperately, Alex watching the grim, clean-shaven face 
and the fluttering dotted handkerchief about the pur- 
suing man’s neck with a curious fascination. 

At last he was parallel with them. Still running, 
he drew his revolver. “ Stop! ” he ordered. “ Stop, 
or I ’ll put one through you ! ” 

“ Keep it up, boy,” the oiler directed sharply. “ He 
daresn’t fire. He daresn’t add murder to it. And he ’d 
be heard at the junction.” 

The runner snapped his gun back into its holster, 
and putting on an extra spurt, rushed slanting up the 
embankment, and threw himself bodily upon the oiler. 
They tumbled off backwards in a struggling heap. 
Throwing his weight against the handles, Alex stopped 
the velocipede, sprang off, and dashed to the oiler’s 
assistance. 

The cowman’s revolver had fallen from his belt. 
Alex caught it up and pressed it against the back of 
the man’s head. “ Stop it ! Let go ! ” he cried. “ I ’ll 
certainly shoot ! ” 

The man half relaxed, and glared up sideways. 
318 


THE ENEMY’S HAND AGAIN 


Alex brought the muzzle to his eyes, and slowly he 
freed his hold on the oiler. Oh, very well,” he mut- 
tered with a curse. ‘‘ You win.” 

'‘No — don’t!” said Alex, as the enraged oiler 
spun about to strike the half-prostrate man. " He ’s 
down, and has given up.” 

At that moment interruption came from another 
quarter. It was a shrill cry from the direction of the 
creek-bed, and turning, all three saw a round-shoul- 
dered figure on horseback scrambling from the creek- 
bottom, leading the ponies of the two would-be wreck- 
ers, and the second cowman running toward him. 

" It ’s Little Hawk ! ” Alex exclaimed. 

The cowboy reached the Indian, sprang at him, 
there was a terrific scrimmage, and the white man 
sprang from the melee with the bridle of one of the 
ponies, leaped into the saddle, and was off across the 
prairie in a whirl of dust. 

So interested had Alex been in the second conflict 
that momentarily he had forgotten the man on the 
ground before him. He was reminded by suddenly 
finding himself sprawling upon his back, and regain- 
ing his feet, found their prisoner also racing off at 
top speed. The oiler darted after, but quickly gave 
it up. He was no match for the light-footed cowman. 

Seeing the pistol still in Alex’s hand, he cried, 
"Shoot! Shoot him!” 

Alex raised the revolver, faltered, and lowered it. 
" No. I can’t,” he said. 

" I can ! ” The oiler darted back and wrested it 
319 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


from Alex’s hand. As he whirled about to fire, Alex 
grasped his arm. ‘‘No! Wait! Look!” he ex- 
claimed. “ The Indian is after him! ” 

Turning, the oiler saw the Indian, with his own and 
one of the other ponies, storming across the ground in 
pursuit of the runner. Silently they watched. 

As he heard the pounding hoofs behind him, the 
fleeing cowboy glanced about, and set on at greater 
speed than ever. Quickly, however, the horses cut 
down the distance between them. 

The Indian leaned toward the second pony, took 
something from the saddle-horn, and began to adjust 
it on his arm. 

“ He ’s going to lassoo him ! ” said Alex breath- 
lessly. 

Nearer drew the Indian to the fleeing man, and 
hand and lassoo went into the air and began to weave 
circles. Tensely the two on the embankment watched. 

Closer the horses drew. Wider the circle of the 
lassoo extended. 

Suddenly it leaped through the air like a great snake. 
The runner saw the shadow of it, and with a cry that 
they heard, half turned and threw out his arms to 
ward it off. The loop was too large, the cowman 
missed it, and as the Indian pulled up in a cloud of 
dust, he whipped in the slack, and the noose tightened 
fairly about the renegade’s waist. An instant after, 
however, the second pony, plunging ahead of the In- 
dian’s, threw the rider forward, slackening the lariat. 
In a twinkle the cowman had loosened the noose, and 
320 


THE ENEMY’S HAND AGAIN 


was wriggling out of it. He had freed one foot before 
the Indian had recovered himself. Then with a ter- 
rific yank the horseman snapped in the slack, the cow- 
man’s feet flew from under him, and with one foot 
taut in the air, caught at the ankle, he lay cursing and 
shaking an impotent fist. 

As Alex and the oiler ran forward the Indian sat 
on his horse like a statue, holding the lariat taut. 

The oiler reached the prisoner first, revolver in hand. 

‘‘ Get up, you ! ” he ordered. Sullenly the man 
obeyed. Removing a handkerchief from about his 
neck, the oiler gave it to Alex, who securely bound the 
man’s hands behind him. Throwing off the lassoo, 
they turned toward the Indian. With some wonder, 
they saw he was carefully examining the hoofs of the 
pony he was leading. Concluding the inspection with 
a grunt, he came forward, winding up the rope, and 
halted before them. 

‘‘You boss?” he asked of the prisoner, pointing 
over his shoulder. 

The cowboy looked at him contemptuously, and 
responded, “Well, what if it is. Old Ugly-Mug?” 

The oiler brought up the pistol. “ I don’t know 
why he wants to know, but you go ahead and tell 
him ! ” he ordered threateningly. “ He ’s twice the 
man you are. Is it your horse? ” 

“ Yes.” 

Little Hawk turned away with a grunt of satisfac- 
tion, and mounting his pony, rode off towards the 
junction. 


321 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


What the Indian meant Alex learned when, with 
their prisoner between them, he and the oiler ap- 
proached the boarding-train, and met Little Hawk re- 
turning with Superintendent Finnan. 

That him ! ” said the Indian briefly as they drew 
near. ‘‘ Him burn cars ! ’’ 

From the prisoner came a hissing gasp. As Alex 
turned upon him with a sharp ejaculation of under- 
standing, however, the man assumed an indifferent 
air, and strode on nonchalantly. 

“ What do you want?’’ he demanded insolently of 
the superintendent. Can’t a man pull off a — a 
little joke without these idiots of yours going out of 
their heads? It was nothing more than a bit of fun 
me and my mate was having,” he affirmed boldly. 

Superintendent Finnan smiled sardonically. That 
is what the K. & Z. call it, eh ? ” 

Alex, still with a hand on the prisoner’s arm, felt 
him start. But brazenly the man replied, ‘‘ K. & Z. ? 
What ’s the K. & Z. ? A ranch brand ? I never heard 
of it.” 

On a thought Alex stepped forward and whispered 
a word in the official’s ear. 

Go ahead,” said the superintendent. 

I ’m going to search your pockets,” Alex an- 
nounced, stepping back to the side of the renegade 
cowman. ‘‘No objection, I suppose, since you don’t 
know what K. & Z. means ? ” 

“ Search ahead,” agreed the prisoner, half smiling. 
“ And good luck to you if you find anything to 
322 


THE ENEMY’S HAND AGAIN 

connect me — if you find anything,” he corrected 
quickly. 

From a trouser pocket Alex drew out a large jack- 
knife. With a suspicion of trembling he opened one 
of the blades and examined it, while the owner re- 
garded him curiously. With a shake of the head the 
young operator opened the second blade. A quick 
smile of triumph lit up his face, and delving into a 
vest pocket, he brought forth a scrap of paper, un- 
folded it, and took out a fragment of charred pine 
shaving. 

Turning his back on the now anxiously watching, 
though still puzzled, owner of the knife, he held the 
shaving against the edge of the blade. The superin- 
tendent bent over it, and uttered a delighted “ Ex- 
actly!” 

Triumphantly Alex turned toward the prisoner, and 
held the hand with the knife and shaving before him. 
‘‘ Does this help you to recall what K. & Z. means ? ” 
he asked. 

‘‘Recall?. I don’t — ” 

“ See these two little ridges on the shaving? See 
these two little nicks in the blade? ” 

With a hoarse cry the man flung himself backward, 
and bound as he was, began struggling like a madman. 
Alex, the superintendent and the Indian were to the 
oiler’s assistance in a twinkle, however, and a few 
minutes later saw the renegade in their midst on the 
way to the boarding-train — and, as it finally proved, 
to the jail at Exeter. 


323 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


I don’t know who to thank most,” said Superin- 
tendent Finnan later — '‘you, Ward, or the oiler, or 
Little Hawk. Nor what appreciation to suggest higher 
up.” 

You might make it a blanket and Winchester for 
the Indian, and a purse for the oiler, for the knocks he 
got and the bribe he refused,” Alex suggested. 

And yourself? ” 

Oh, just let me keep the rascal’s knife, as a me- 
mento,” responded Alex modestly. 

‘‘Very well; we’ll agree on that — for the pres- 
ent,” said the superintendent. 


324 


XX 


A PRISONER 

W HEN the early-morning mail train stopped at 
Yellow Creek Junction on Tuesday, Alex was 
at the little box-car station to greet Jack Orr and 
Wilson Jennings. Jack, who had not met Wilson 
before the latter boarded the train at Bonepile, had 
taken a liking to the easterner at once, and confided 
to Alex that he was the real goods,’’ despite the 
‘‘ streak of dude.” 

We ought to have some good times together,” 
Jack predicted, as, with lively interest, he and Wilson 
accompanied Alex back toward the nondescript but 
businesslike-looking boarding-train. 

Jack’s hope, as far as it concerned the three boys 
being together, was soon shattered. As they reached 
the telegraph-car. Superintendent Finnan appeared, 
and having cordially shaken hands with Jack and 
Wilson, turned to Alex. Ward,” he said, ‘‘ I have 
just decided to send you on to the Antelope viaduct. 
A courier has brought word from Norton, the engi- 
neer in charge, that trouble appears to be brewing 
amongst his Italian laborers, and I would like to get 
in direct touch with him. The telegraph line was 
325 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


strung within two miles of the bridge yesterday, and 
should reach Norton’s camp to-day. How soon could 
you start?” 

As soon as I have breakfast, sir,” responded Alex, 
stifling his disappointment. “ It ’s twenty miles there, 
is n’t it, Mr. Finnan? How am I to go? ” 

‘^You can ride a horse?” 

Yes, sir.” 

‘‘ Elder will have a pony here for you by the time 
you are ready. And you had better take an extra 
blanket with you,” advised the superintendent as he 
turned away. “ You will be living in a tent, you 
know.” 

Half an hour later Alex, mounted on a spirited little 
cow-pony, with a few necessities in a sweater, strapped 
to the saddle, and a blanket over his shoulder, army 
fashion, waved a good-by to Jack and Wilson, and 
was off over the prairie at a lope, following the tele- 
graph poles. 

It was a beautiful morning, and with the sun shi- 
ning and the sparkling air brushing his cheeks and 
tingling in his nostrils, Alex quickly forgot his disap- 
pointment at being so quickly separated from Jack and 
Wilson, and soon was enjoying every minute of his 
ride. Keeping on steadily at a hand-gallop, before he 
realized he had covered half the distance, he came upon 
the wire-stringing and pole-erecting gangs. A half 
mile farther, a long, dark break appeared in the plain, 
and a muffled din of pounding began to reach him. 
And pushing ahead, Alex drew up on the brink of 
326 


A PRISONER 


a wide, deep gully, from either side of which reached 
out a great wooden frame, dotted with busy men. 

It was the bed of the old Antelope river, which 
years before had changed its course, and which the 
railroad finally proposed crossing with a permanent 
fill. 

Directly below, in a group of shrubby trees on the 
border of the stony creek which alone remained of 
the river, was a village of white tents. From Alex’s 
feet a rough trail slanted downward toward it. Giv- 
ing his pony free rein, he descended. 

“ Where is Mr. Norton? ” he asked of a water-boy 
at the foot of the path. 

“ That ’s him at the table in front of the middle 
tent,” the boy directed. Thanking him, Alex urged 
the pony forward, and leaped to the ground beside a 
dark-haired, energetic young man bending over a sheet 
of figures. 

I am the operator Mr. Finnan sent on,” Alex an- 
nounced as the engineer looked up. 

‘‘ Glad to meet you,” said the engineer, cordially 
rising and extending his hand. You are a trifle 
young for this rough work, though, are you not?” 
he ventured, noting Alex’s youthful face. ‘'You are 
not the operator who caught that K. & Z. man Sun- 
day?” 

“ I helped catch him,” Alex corrected. 

You ’ll do, then,” said Norton. “ And I ’ll give 
you a place here in my own tent,” he added, turning 
and entering a small marquee, followed by Alex. 
327 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


‘‘ This corner will be yours, and the box your ‘ office/ 
It will do for the instruments ? ’’ 

‘‘ Fine,'’ responded Alex. 

As the wire-stringing gang was not due to reach 
the viaduct before mid-afternoon, on completing his 
arrangements in the tent, Alex set out for a tour of 
his new surroundings. Climbing up the western slope 
of the gully, he found a large gang of foreigners, 
mostly Italians, working in a cutting. Judging that 
this was the gang which was causing the anxiety, Alex 
paused some moments to watch them. 

Scattered over a system of miniature track, the men 
were shovelling earth into strings of small dump-cars, 
which when filled were run out over the completed 
western end of the viaduct, and dumped. As Alex 
stood regarding the active scene, a string of cars rum- 
bled toward him from one of the more distant sidings. 
Others had been pushed by several men. This was 
being driven by a single burly giant. With admira- 
tion Alex watched. Suddenly a sense of something 
familiar about the figure stirred within him. The man 
came opposite, and Alex uttered an involuntary ejacu- 
lation. It was Big Tony, the Italian who had led the 
trouble amongst the trackmen at Bixton two years 
back, and with whom he had had the thrilling encoun- 
ter at the old brick-yard. 

When the Italian glanced toward him, Alex started 
back. But the foreigner did not recognize the young 
operator, with his two years of rapid growth, and 
passed on. Breathing a sigh of relief, Alex turned 
328 


A PRISONER 

and made his way to the foreman in charge of the 
gang. 

‘‘ How do you do/’ he said, introducing himself. 
Who is that big Italian pushing the string of cars 
alone ? ” 

‘‘ Tony Martino. The best man in the gang,” 
responded the foreman. Why ? Do you know 

him?” 

‘‘ He was on a surfacing-gang near my father’s sta- 
tion two years ago,” said Alex, “ and caused no end 
of trouble. He was discharged finally.” 

‘‘ He must have reformed, then,” the foreman de- 
clared. ‘‘ He ’s certainly the best man we have — 
more than willing, and strong as an ox.” 

‘‘ He had nothing to do with the trouble you have 
had here, then? ” 

“ He helped me put it down,” said the foreman. 
‘‘ No; I only wish we had a few more like him.” 

Alex passed on, thoughtful. At Bixton Big Tony 
had been no more remarkable for his willingness to 
work than for his peaceableness. Had he really 
changed for the better? Or was it possible he was 
playing possum,” to cover the carrying-out of some 
plan of revenge against the road? 

Three evenings later, a beautiful, moonlit night, 
Alex left the camp for a stroll. To obtain a look up 
and down the old river-bed by the moonlight, he made 
his way out on the now nearly completed viaduct. 

As he stood gazing down the ravine to the south, 
a half-mile distant a dark figure passed over a bright 
329 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


patch of sand. It was quickly lost in the dark back- 
ground beyond. But not before Alex had recognized 
the unmistakable figure and walk of the Italian, Big 
Tony. His suspicions at once awakened, Alex was 
but a moment in deciding to follow the foreigner, and 
returning to the eastern bank, he scrambled down to 
the gully bottom, and hastily followed, keeping well 
in the shadows on the eastern side of the ravine. 

Reaching the spot at which he had seen the Italian, 
he went on more cautiously. A quarter-mile farther 
the ravine swung abruptly to the west. As Alex ar- 
rived at the bend, subdued voices reached him. Con- 
tinuing cautiously, and keeping to the deepest shadows, 
Alex reached a clump of willow bushes. 

He glanced beyond, and in a patch of moonlight 
discovered Big Tony in conversation with an almost 
equally tall stranger, apparently a cowboy. The lat- 
ter’s back was toward him. 

The stranger turned, and Alex drew back with a 
.start, and then a smile. 

It was the second man of the two who on the pre- 
vious Sunday had attempted to wreck the track- 
machine — the one who had made his escape. 

As the man turned more fully, and he caught his 
words, Alex’s jubilant smile vanished. 

'^ . . . enough to blow the whole thing to match- 
wood, if you place it right,” he was saying. 

There was no doubt what this meant. They were 
planning to blow up the viaduct. 

‘‘ Oh, I fixa it alia right, alia right,” declared Big 
330 


A PRISONER 


Tony confidently. No fear. I usa da dynamite all- 
aready. I blow up da beega da house once.” 

‘‘ A house and a big wooden bridge are quite differ- 
ent propositions. And a wooden bridge is n’t to be 
blown up like a stone or iron affair, you know.” 

‘‘ Suppose you come, taka da look, see my plan all- 
aright, den,” the Italian suggested. “ No one on disa 
side da bridge, to see, disa time night.” 

The cowman hesitated. Well, all right. It would 
be best to make sure. 

We don’t want to carry this, though. Where ’ll 
we put it? ” 

As he spoke the man leaned over and picked up a 
good-sized parcel done up in brown paper. From the 
careful way he handled it there could be no doubt of 
its contents. It was the dynamite they proposed 
using. 

‘‘ Here, I fin’ da place.” 

Alex caught his breath at the display of carelessness 
with which the foreigner took the deadly package. 
Backing into a nearby clump of bushes. Big Tony 
stooped and placed the dynamite on the ground, well 
beneath the branches. 

Dere. No one see dat. Come! ” 

As the two conspirators strode toward him, Alex 
crept closer into the shadows of the willows. Passing 
almost within touch of him, they continued up the 
gully, and soon were out of sight. 

Before the footsteps of the two men had died away 
Alex was sitting upright, debating a suggestion that 
331 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


caused him to smile. With decision he arose, ap- 
proached the bush under which the dynamite was con- 
cealed, and reaching beneath with both hands, very 
carefully brought the package forth and placed it on 
the ground in the moonlight. With great caution he 
then undid the twine securing the parcel, and opened 
it. On discovering a second wrapping of paper within, 
he uttered an exclamation of satisfaction. Lifting out 
the inner parcel intact, he glanced about, and choosing 
a group of bushes some distance away, carried the 
dynamite there and concealed it. Returning, he se- 
cured the piece of outer wrapping paper, and proceeded 
to carry out his idea. 

Where the moonlight struck the western wall of the 
gully was a bed of cracked, sun-baked clay. Making 
his way thither, Alex found a fragment a little larger 
than the package of dynamite, and with his knife pro- 
ceeded to trim it into a square. Carefully then he 
wrapped this in the brown paper, and wound it about 
with the cord just as the original parcel was secured. 
And with a smile Alex placed this under the bush 
from which he had taken the genuine package. 

“ Dynamite with that as much as you please, Mr. 
Tony,'’ he laughed as he turned away. 

When Alex had covered half the distance in return- 
ing to the viaduct he began keeping a sharp lookout 
ahead for the returning of the Italian and his compan- 
ion. He was within a hundred yards of the great white 
structure when he discovered them. Turning aside, 
he concealed himself behind a small spruce. 

332 


A PRISONER 


With no apprehension of danger Alex waited, and 
the two men came opposite. Suddenly, without a 
motion of warning, the two turned and darted toward 
him, one on either side of the tree. Before Alex had 
recovered from his astonishment he found himself 
seized on either side, and threateningly ordered to be 
silent. 

They dragged him on some distance, then into the 
moonlight. Why, it ’s one of the fellows who cap- 
tured Bucks on Sunday!” declared the cowboy. 

What are you doing here, boy? ” he demanded an- 
grily. 

I was out for a moonlight stroll,” Alex responded, 
stifling his apprehension. 

‘‘ Why did you hide behind that tree, then ? ” 

Well — perhaps I was afraid,” said Alex vaguely. 
‘‘ There are some rough people here among the foreign 
laborers.” 

As he spoke Alex noted with new alarm that the 
Italian was regarding him sharply. He turned his 
back more fully to the moonlight. Immediately he 
chided himself for his stupidity. The move empha- 
sized the struggling sense of recognition in the Italian’s 
mind, he smartly turned Alex’s face full to the moon, 
and uttered a cry in Italian. 

Now I know! I know! ” he cried exultingly. ‘‘ I 
know heem before ! And he a spy ! A boy spy ! ” 

Rapidly he gave the stranger a distorted account of 
the strike at Bixton, and Alex’s part in his final dis- 
comfiture. 


333 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


The cowman listened closely. ‘‘ Is that so, boy ? ” 
he demanded. 

Partly. But it was not a strike. It was a simple 
piece of murderous revenge against one man, the 
section-foreman. And I helped spoil it.’’ 

Good. That ’s all I want to know,” said the cow- 
boy with decision. ‘‘ Not that I care one way or the 
other about the affair itself. It shows you are a dan- 
gerous man to leave around loose. I ’ll just take you 
along with me. Come on ! ” 

‘‘ Come ? Where ? ” said Alex, holding back in 
alarm. 

‘‘ Never mind ! Just come ! ” Securing a new hold 
on Alex’s arms, the speaker and the Italian dragged 
him with them back down the gorge. 

As they neared the spot at which the dynamite was 
supposed to be safely hidden, the stranger halted ab- 
ruptly, studied Alex intently a moment, then sent Big 
Tony on ahead, after a whispered word in his ear. 

Alex knew the foreigner had gone to learn whether 
the dynamite had been touched. In suspense he 
awaited the result. Would the Italian be deceived? 
Would he notice the new footprints about the bush? 

Big Tony returned. Alla right,” he announced. 
Alex breathed a sigh of relief, and continued forward 
with his captors. 

They proceeded some distance in silence, and pres- 
ently Alex had sufficiently plucked up courage to again 
ask what they proposed doing with him. 

‘‘ I ’m going to take you where you will be out of 

334 


A PRISONER 


mischief, that ’s all,’’ replied the unknown cowman. 
As he spoke he halted, looked about, and resigning 
Alex to the guardianship of the Italian, disappeared 
in the shadow of an over-hang of the ravine. A mo- 
ment later there was a clatter of hoofs, and he reap- 
peared leading a horse. 

‘‘Make heem rida too?” questioned Big Tony. 

“ Hardly,” responded the cowman, at the same time 
freeing and swinging a lariat from the saddle-horn. 
“ He ’s going to trot along behind me like the blame 
little coyote he is. 

“ Hold out your hands, kid ! ” he ordered. Seeing 
resistance was useless, Alex reluctantly complied. 
Running the noose of the lassoo about the boy’s wrists, 
the cowman tightened it, and secured it with several 
knots. Swinging into the saddle, he fixed the other 
end to the saddle-horn. 

“ You may go now, Tony,” he said to the foreigner 
as he caught up the reins and headed the pony toward 
a path to the surface which Alex had not noticed. 

“ Gooda night, Meester Munson. And gooda-by, 
smart boy,” said the Italian. “ Lucky for you I hav- 
anta my way. ‘ Scrugk! ’ That ’s what you get,” he 
declared, drawing his hand across his throat. 

“ Munson, eh ? ” murmured Alex as the lassoo 
tightened, and he stumbled up the path behind the 
pony. “ That ’s another good thing learned.” 

Arrived at the surface, his captor halted to look 
about, then set off across the plains due south, at a 
walk, Alex trailing after at the end of the rope. 

335 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


The situation was not without its humorous side, 
it occurred to Alex after his first apprehension had 
worn off. When a few minutes later the pony broke 
into a slow canter, and he was forced into an awkward 
dog-trot, a chuckle broke from him. 

The man ahead turned in surprise. ‘‘ Well, you ’re 
sure a game one,” he observed. ‘‘ Imagine it ’s funny, 
eh?” 

‘‘ I was thinking how I would look to some of my 
friends, if they could see me here,” explained Alex 
good-naturedly. Trotting along like a little dog on 
a string.” 

The cowman pulled up and laughed. Youngster, 
you ’re all right,” he said heartily. I ’m sorry you ’re 
— that is — ” 

On the wrong side?” suggested Alex, smiling. 

‘‘Very well. Let it go at that. Look here! If 
I take that thing off, will you prornise to come along, 
and not play any tricks ? ” 

“ Yes, I will,” agreed Alex readily. For he saw 
there was little chance of making his escape from the 
horseman on an open plain. 

“ Hold up your hands, then,” directed the cowboy. 
Alex complied, and quickly he was free. 

“ How far are we going? ” he asked as they moved 
on, Alex walking abreast. 

“ About twenty miles,” replied the cowman. 


336 


XXI 


TURNING THE TABLES 

T he moonlight had given place to darkness, and 
Alex was thoroughly exhausted from his long 
walk when the fence of a corral, then a group of small 
buildings, loomed up, and his captor announced that 
they were at their destination. 

‘‘ Do you live here all alone ? ” Alex asked, seeing 
no lights. 

‘‘ Since you fellows captured Bucks — yes,” re- 
sponded the cowboy, halting at the corral bars. Dis- 
mounting, he whipped saddle and bridle from the pony 
as it passed inside, and replacing the bars, led the way 
to the house. 

It was a small, meagerly-furnished room that a 
match, then a lamp, disclosed. Against the rear wall 
was a small stove, in the center a rough table, at either 
end a low cot, and in one corner a cupboard. Two or 
three chairs, some pictures and calendars and two or 
three saddles completed the contents. The floor was 
of hard earth. 

That ’ll be your bunk there,” said the owner, in- 
dicating one of the cots. ‘‘ And you can turn in just 
as soon as you like.” 

Crossing the room, he stood at the foot of the bed, 
337 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


thinking. What ’s the trouble ? It looks comfortable 
enough/' observed Alex, following. 

I have it," said the cowman, and going to the sad- 
dles, he returned with a coiled lariat. Alex laughed 
uncomfortably. 

Lie down," the man directed. ‘‘ Or, hold on ! 
Let 's see first if you have any knives about you." Ob- 
jection would have been fruitless, and Alex of his own 
accord surrendered his pocket-knife. 

Now lie down." 

With what grace he could, Alex complied. Making 
a slip-loop in the center of the lariat, the cowman 
passed it over one of the boy’s ankles, and made the 
holding-knot as firm as he could draw it. Then pass- 
ing the two ends of the rope inside one of the lower 
legs of the cot, he ran them across the room and se- 
cured them to his own bed. 

“ That ’ll leave you comfortable, and put the knots 
out of temptation," he remarked. ‘‘ Also, if you start 
any wriggling this old shake-down of mine will act 
as watch-dog. It squeaks if you look at it. And I ’m 
a powerful light snoozer, and powerful quick with the 
gun when it ’s necessary," he added, with an emphasis 
which Alex could not doubt. 

Nevertheless, when presently the cowman blew out 
the light, and retired, Alex only waited until a steady, 
deep snore announced that the man was asleep. Cau- 
tiously he sat up, and reached toward his encircled 
ankle. 

The knots had been secured cleverly and tightly. 

338 


TURNING THE TABLES 


Pry and pull as he could, they gave no more than if 
they had been made of wire. 

Working lower, Alex sought to reach the cot leg, 
to see whether it was fixed to the floor. With some 
difficulty, because of the sitting position made neces- 
sary, he was straining toward it, when suddenly the 
bound foot lunged from him, the rope tightened, and 
from the cot opposite came a squeak. The snoring 
instantly ceased, and Alex sat motionless, holding his 
breath. The ominous silence continued, and finally he 
lay back with a movement as though turning in his 
sleep. 

Minute after minute passed, and still the breathing 
of the man across the room did not resume. 

Then suddenly, it seemed, Alex found himself sit- 
ting upright, and daylight flooding the room. He had 
fallen asleep. 

The second cot was empty, but a moment after the 
door opened and the cowman appeared. 

‘‘ How did you sleep, stranger? he inquired. I 
thought for a spell last night you were trying some 
funny business.’’ 

Alex laughed. ‘‘ I slept like a log,” he declared 
truthfully, ignoring the last remark. ‘‘ Are you going 
to keep me tied up here all day? ” 

Until after breakfast anyway,” responded his host, 
proceeding to start a fire in the stove. Suppose 
you ’ll have some bacon and coffee ? ” 

‘‘ Thank you, yes. I ’m more than hollow, after 
that Marathon run you gave me last night.” 

339 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


As the cowman turned to the cupboard Alex seized 
the opportunity to examine the leg of the cot about 
which the lassoo was passed. With disappointment 
he discovered it to be a stout post driven into the 
floor. 

Despite the discomfort of his position Alex enjoyed 
the simple breakfast of biscuits and bacon. He was 
passing his cup for a third filling of the fragrant coffee, 
when his host abruptly sat the coffee-pot down and 
listened. ‘‘ Someone coming,’’ he remarked. Alex 
also heard the hoofbeats. They approached rapidly, 
there was a step at the door, and a tall, well-dressed 
figure in riding-breeches and leggings appeared. At 
sight of Alex he halted in surprise. 

Who ’s this, Munson ? ” he demanded. 

The cowman led the way outside and closed the 
door, and low words told Alex that he was explaining 
the previous night’s occurrences. More, they told him 
that this well-dressed man was the connecting link 
between the K. & Z. and the men who were seeking to 
interfere with the Middle Western in the race for the 
Yellow Creek Pass. 

What would be the outcome of the man’s visit for 
him ? Alex asked himself. For the newcomer would 
not fail to appreciate the disadvantage of having been 
seen there by the young employee of the M. W. 

The young operator was not left long in doubt. The 
door again opened, and the stranger re-entered, fol- 
lowed by the cowman, and without preliminary placed 
a chair before Alex and dropped into it. 

340 


TURNING THE TABLES 


Look here, my boy,’’ he began, ‘‘ how would you 
like to earn some extra money — a good decent 
sum? ” 

At once seeing the man’s intention, Alex bridled 
indignantly. But suppressing his feelings, he re- 
sponded, ‘‘ I ’d like to as well as anyone else, I sup- 
pose — if I can earn it honorably.” 

At the last word a flush mounted to the stranger’s 
cheeks, but he continued. “ Well, that ’s all a matter 
of opinion, you know. Every man has his own par- 
ticular code of honor. However — 

‘‘ You probably have guessed who I am?” 

A K. & Z. man.” 

‘‘Yes. Now look here: Suppose the K. & Z. was 
anxious to know from day to day the precise progress 
the Middle Western is making in this race for Yellow 
Creek, and suppose they were willing to pay a hundred 
dollars a month for the information — would that 
proposition interest you ? ” 

Alex replied promptly, “ No, sir. And anyway, 
it ’s not the information you want. It ’s my silence.” 

The man’s face darkened. He had one more card 
to play, however. 

“ Well, let it go at that, then. And suppose, in 
addition to a hundred a month to keep silent as to 
seeing me here, and what you have learned generally, 
I should give you — ” He thrust his hand into an 
inside pocket and brought forth a long pocket-book. 
“ Suppose I should give you, say two hundred dollars, 
cash?” 


341 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Alex caught a knee between his hands and leaned 
back against the wall. 

“ I 'm not for sale/’ he replied quietly. 

The would-be briber thrust the book back into his 
pocket and sprang to his feet, purple with anger. 

Very well, my young saint,” he sneered, “ stay 
where you are, then — till we ’re good and ready to 
let you go ! ” 

He strode to the door, Munson following him. If 
he tries to get away,” Alex heard him add as he 
mounted his horse, ‘‘ shoot him ! I ’ll protect you ! ” 

‘‘ You are a young fool, all right,” Munson said, 
returning. “ You ’ve simply made it worse for your- 
self. You ’ve sure now got to stay right here, indefi- 
nite. 

And, as he ordered,” the cowman added deter- 
minedly, ‘‘ if you try to make a break-away of it, I ’ll 
sure shoot — and shoot to kill ! When I go into a 
thing, I put it through ! ” 

Alex, however, had no intention of staying, what- 
ever the risks, and when presently Munson, after 
assuring himself that the knots were secure, passed 
out, he immediately addressed himself to the task of 
making his escape. It did not look difficult at first 
sight, since both hands were free, and only one foot 
tied. But an energetic attempt to loosen the cleverly- 
tied slip-loop failed as completely as it had the night 
before. Likewise, strain as he could at the cot leg, 
he could not budge it, so firmly was it driven into the 
hard ground. 


342 


TURNING THE TABLES 


With something like despair Alex at last relin- 
quished these endeavors, and turned to the problem of 
cutting the rope in some way. In the hope of finding 
a nail with which he might pick or fray the lariat 
apart, he made a thorough examination of the cot. 
There were nails, but they were driven in beyond hope 
of drawing with his fingers. 

Dispiritedly Alex relinquished the search, and sat 
up. His eyes wandered to the window near him. 
Starting to his feet, he strained toward it. 

The lower corner of one of the panes had been 
broken, and the triangle of glass leaned inward loosely. 
With a low expression of hope Alex was reaching for 
it, when from the rear of the cabin sounded the return- 
ing footsteps of the cowman. Speedily Alex sank back 
on the cot, and assumed an air of dejection. 

A few minutes later the boy again found himself 
alone. But in the meantime he had decided to leave 
the securing of the fragment of glass and the attempt 
at escape until night. In further preparation for the 
attempt Alex that afternoon stretched himself on the 
cot, and slept several hours. 

To the young operator it seemed that the cowman 
would never retire that night. And when at length 
he blew out the light, and threw himself upon his bed, 
he apparently lay an interminable time awake. At 
length, however, when the moonlight in the window 
pointed to approaching midnight, there came a faint 
regular breathing, then a full long snore. Without 
loss of time Alex got to his feet at the foot of the cot, 
343 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

and leaning against the wall, reached toward the win- 
dow. 

He could just touch the broken corner of pane with 
the tips of his fingers. Moving his supporting hand 
farther along the wall, he drew back, and reached 
forward with a lunge. This time he got his wrist on 
the window-ledge. Thus leaning, he finally secured a 
hold on the fragment of glass with his fingers, and 
pulled on it. A crackle caused him to falter. Mun- 
son's breathing continued undisturbed. At the next 
pull the piece came free. The next moment Alex was 
sitting on the cot-end, sawing at the rope with the 
sharp edge of the broken glass. 

To his disappointment, the edge, though sharp to 
the feel, did not cut into the closely-woven and sea- 
soned twine as he had expected. Vigorously he sawed 
away, however, and at last found that the extempo- 
rized knife was taking hold. 

And finally, as the last gleam of moonlight died 
from the window-panes, the remaining strand was 
severed, and there was a faint slap as the rope fell to 
the floor. A restless move by the sleeper and a momen- 
tary cessation of the snoring gave Alex a thrill of fear. 
Then the heavy breathing resumed, and getting to his 
feet, he slipped to the door, found the catch, lifted it, 
and passed out. 

As he closed the door, Alex paused a moment to 
assure himself that the cowman was still breathing 
regularly, and turned away jubilantly. 

Exultation over his escape was considerably tem- 
344 


TURNING THE TABLES 


pered when Alex discovered that the moon was almost 
down in the west, and that in addition the sky over- 
head was clouding. He set off immediately, however, 
heading straight north, and when a safe distance had 
been put between him and the cabin, broke into a run. 

At a steady jog Alex kept on for several miles over . 
the dimly-lit plain. Then the moon finally disappeared, 
and he fell into a rapid walk. Some time later he 
halted in alarm. Was he going in the right direction? 
On every hand was a wall of darkness, and overhead 
not a star was to be seen. 

He moved on, and again halted to debate the situa- 
tion. Certainly, for the time being, he was lost. 
What should he do? Remain where he was till day- 
light? or go ahead, and take the chance of circuiting 
back? He decided to continue. 

Perhaps an hour later, still pushing ahead, Alex 
strode full tilt into a barb-wire fence. As he stag- 
gered back a second cry broke from him. Had he 
circled back to Munson’s corral? 

His heart in his throat, he felt hurriedly along the 
top wire to a post, and reached upward. A gasp of 
relief greeted the discovery that the top of the post 
was well within his reach. The corral posts were not 
less than eight or nine feet, with wires to the top. 

A further cheering idea followed. On the ride to 
the Antelope viaduct he had noted a three-wire fence 
similar to this paralleling the right-of-way for several 
miles. Perhaps this was the same fence? 

If he only knew its direction! 

345 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Dropping to the ground for a brief rest, Alex set 
his brains at recalling every bit of woods or plains 
lore he had ever heard or read of for the telling of 
direction. 

It was a pufif of air against his cheek that suggested 
the answer. 

The prevailing wind ! What was it here ? 

Southwest ! 

In a moment he was on his knees at the foot of the 
adjacent fence-post. 

On the farther side, half covering the dead grass, 
was a small eddy of sand! 

Hopefully Alex hastened to the next post. The 
samel 

To make doubly sure, he tried the third, and with 
an exulting, The same again! '' started to his feet, 
and struck on, whistling gaily, confident he was head- 
ing due north, and that this was the same fence he 
had seen along the new embankment. 

A further cheering thought occurred to the young 
operator presently. The construction-train should 
not be far from the stretch of road which paralleled 
the fence! 

Onward he pushed through the darkness at a steady, 
swinging gait, feeling frequently for the fence, to 
make sure he was not wandering. 

For what seemed several hours Alex had been walk- 
ing, when a faint light appeared in the sky. It was 
to his right. His plainsmanship had not put him 
amiss. 


346 


TURNING THE TABLES 


As the light brightened he gazed anxiously ahead. 
The ragged, thin-posted fence stretched unbroken to 
the northern horizon. He had hoped the light would 
reveal the swing to the east, and the dark shape of the 
construction-train. 

Alex continued steadily ahead, however, buoying up 
his lagging energies with pictures of a hot, appetizing 
meal and a pleasant meeting with Jack and the rest 
of his friends on the train. And finally, when the sun 
had been some time above the horizon, he uttered a 
shout. Far in front, but distinct in the beautifully clear 
air, the fence turned abruptly to the east. And less 
than a mile sun-ward was a long dark shape and col- 
umns of smoke rising lazily into the air. 

Scrambling through the fence, Alex set oflf on a 
bee-line for the train, whistling a brisk march. 

Five minutes later the whistler paused in the middle 
of a note and spun sharply about. The color left his 
bronzed face. A mile to the rear, on the other side 
of the fence, a horseman was following him at full 
speed. A glance at the white-faced pony told it was 
Munson, and turning, Alex was off, running with 
every ounce of his remaining energy. 

The thud of the hoofs gained rapidly. 

Closer they came, and Alex headed off farther from 
the fence. Perhaps he dl be afraid to put the horse 
at the wire, he thought hopefully. He glanced back. 
The cowman was wheeling off for the jump. 

In despair Alex looked over the long mile still sepa- 
rating him from the train, and again over his shoulder. 
347 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Would the horse make it? He slightly slowed his 
steps as the animal made the rush. 

It went over like a bird. 

Gritting his teeth, Alex dashed straight back for the 
fence. ‘‘ I 'll make him jump his head off before he 
gets me, anyway," he said grimly. Flogging the pony, 
the cowman endeavored to head the boy off, but Alex 
reached the wire, and dove safely through. Scram- 
bling to his feet, he was on again, this time keeping 
closer to the fence. 

It was as the pony drew up abreast fifty feet distant, 
and while the train was still a good mile away, that 
the idea of signalling for help on the fence-wire oc- 
curred to Alex. He acted immediately. Catching up 
a good-sized stone, he ran forward, and on the top- 
most wire, near one of the posts, pounded with all his 
might the telegraph dot letters Oh! Oh! Orr! 
Orr ! " 

Munson had pulled up as Alex ran for the fence. 
When the boy began pounding the wire he at once 
recognized its purpose, and sprang from his horse, 
drawing his pistol. 

Instantly Alex darted on, carrying the stone. The 
cowman ran after. But the man was slow on his feet, 
and despite his fatigue, Alex drew away from him. 

Stop, or I 'll shoot ! " cried the cow-puncher. 
^Tullup! I mill! 

Go ahead, and they 'll hear you at the train ! " 
called Alex, though secretly trembling. The cowman 
hesitated, then returned the revolver to its holster, and 
348 


TURNING THE TABLES 


ran back for his horse. Immediately Alex was again 
at the wire, pounding out, Oh! Oh! Orr! Orr! '' 

The cowman was again up with him, and once more 
he ran on, gazing anxiously toward the train for 
signs of commotion to show his appeal had been heard. 

For some distance the strange race continued, the 
cowman, angry and puzzled, on one side of the fence, 
Alex keeping close to the wires on the other, in readi- 
ness to dodge under should his pursuer jump. 

Finally the rider again swung off, and headed in 
at a gallop. Grimly Alex halted. With a rush the 
horse came directly toward him. Waiting until it was 
within a few yards of him, he dropped to his knees, 
and crawled half way through the fence. 

It was his undoing. Straight at him the horseman 
came, as though to jump. Then suddenly the rider 
whirled broadside, leaned from the saddle, and before 
Alex, wildly scrambling, could withdraw, had him 
firmly by the hair. By main force the cowboy dragged 
his prisoner through the fence, and upright beside 
him. 

With a half-stifled sob Alex lurched limply against 
the pony’s shoulders. Never mind, kid,” said the 
cowman not unkindly. You made a good fight of 
it. You did your best. But I had to do my best too. 

‘‘ If you ’ll give me your word to go quiet, I ’ll let 
you ride behind me,” he added. ‘‘ Promise? ” 

Alex cast a last look back toward the construction- 
train. A few figures were moving about, slowly. 
Clearly his signals had not been heard. 

349 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


All right/’ he said wearily, and with some diffi- 
culty mounting behind the cowboy, they were off the 
weary way he had come. 

Jack, at the construction-train, rose late that morn- 
ing. He had been up nearly all night, awaiting news 
from the viaduct search-party, which throughout the 
entire day had been scouring the nearby country for 
his unaccountably missing chum. As he emerged from 
the telegraph-car door he found the Indian, Little 
Hawk, on the adjoining steps of the store-car. 

Good morning, Mr. Little Hawk,” he said. ‘‘ Sun- 
ning yourself ? ” 

‘‘ I wait for you. I hear noise — knock,” the Indian 
said. 

Knock, like little tick-knock in car,” he added as 
Jack regarded him, mystified. 

‘‘ Tick-knock ? What do you mean ? ” 

“ On fence,” said the Indian stolidly. Hearum 
twice. Like dis : ” And while Jack’s eyes opened 
wide, with a stone he held in his hand the Indian 
tapped on the iron hand-rail of the car the telegraph 
words, “ Oh — Oh — Orr.” 

In a moment Jack was on the ground before him, 
all excitement. Where? Where did you hear it? ” 
he cried. 

Fence. Sleep dar,” said the Indian, pointing to 
the near-by fence. ‘‘ No t’ink much about. Den see 
horse run — way dar. Den t’ink tick-knock, an’ come 
you.” 


350 


TURNING THE TABLES 


Uttering a shrill shout Jack was off on the jump 
to find Superintendent Finnan. And fifteen minutes 
later the superintendent, Little Hawk, and one of the 
foremen, mounted, were away on the gallop along the 
ranch fence toward the point at which the Indian had 
seen the disappearing horseman. 

Alex was thoroughly exhausted when he found him- 
self once more at the ranch. Slipping to the ground, 
he entered the cabin of his own accord, and threw 
himself dejectedly upon the couch. 

‘‘ You Ve near spoiled a dinged fine rope,’’ observed 
Munson, following him, and kicking at the lariat, still 
stretched across the floor. Oh, well. I can take it 
out of the K. & Z. 

‘‘ Now for some breakfast. Suppose you don’t feel 
too bad to grub, eh? Though you sure don’t deserve 
none.” 

As on the previous morning, Alex and his jailer 
were near the conclusion of the meal when hoofbeats 
again told of the approach of a visitor. Going to the 
door, the cowman announced Bennet.” 

So that’s his name, is it?” said Alex quickly. 

What? Did I say — Well, let it go. I don’t see 
that it makes much difference. Yes, Bennet ’s his 
name. 

And mighty lucky thing I have you back here,” 
he added over his shoulder. 

Good morning, Mr. Bennet,” he said. “ Caught 
us at breakfast again.” 


351 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Breakfast ! What are you doing at breakfast this 
time of day ? ’’ inquired the K. & Z. man, entering. 
When the cowman explained, the newcomer glowered 
at Alex threateningly. Why didn’t you shoot?” 
he demanded. 

“ Too near the train. They would have heard it,” 
responded Munson. 

Well, clear off the table. I have something I 
want to show you,” said Bennet, producing what 
looked like a map from his pocket. 

‘‘ And you get off to a corner,” he snarled at Alex. 

Why is n’t he tied up? ” he demanded of the cowboy. 

He agreed to a twenty-four hours’ truce — not to 
make another break in that time,” the cowman an- 
swered as he swept their few dishes into the cupboard. 

Bennet’s lip curled under his moustache. ‘‘ And you 
believe him, eh ? ” 

There was a suggestion of tartness in the cowman’s 
prompt ‘‘ Sure ! He rode behind me all the way back, 
on his word not to attempt anything, and kept it. 
Could have pulled my own gun on me if he ’d wanted 
to.” 

‘‘ The more fool,” muttered the railroad man as he 
spread the roll of paper on the table. 

Alex meantime had stepped to the window from 
which he had taken the fragment of glass, and was 
disconsolately watching a half dozen hens scratching 
about below. 

Lifting his eyes, he glanced out over the plain. The 
men at the table heard a sharply-indrawn breath. It 
352 


TURNING THE TABLES 


was immediately changed into a low whistling, how- 
ever, and they gave their attention again to the map. 

Alex had discovered three horsemen heading for the 
ranch from the north. And the leading pony he would 
have known in a hundred. It was Little Hawk’s 
heavily-mottled horse. 

That they were coming to his assistance — that 
someone had heard the knocking on the wire — he had 
not a doubt. 

The horsemen were still some distance out of hear- 
ing. Ceasing the whistling, Alex glanced casually 
toward the table. Seated in chairs, the two men were 
still deeply engrossed in the plan before them, talking 
in low voices. 

When on turning back to the window Alex recog- 
nized the second horseman as Superintendent Finnan, 
he shot a further glance toward the K. & Z. man at 
the table, and a smile of anticipation and delight over- 
spread his face. 

Then suddenly it occurred to him that in a few min- 
utes the hoofbeats of the on-coming horses would be 
heard, and that Bennet would have time to get to the 
door and escape. 

He must halt his rescuers, and signal them to ap- 
proach on foot ! 

A moment Alex thought, then casually remarking 
to the cowman, ‘‘ I ’m going to open the window. It ’s 
hot,” unlatched and swung the sash inward. The 
move passed unnoticed, and leaning out he pretended 
to call the chickens. 


353 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


What he was in reality doing was energetically 
waving his handkerchief backwards and forwards be- 
low, making the railroad stop ’’ signal. 

The horsemen came on. If they came much farther 
they would be heard ! 

He paused, and waved again, more energetically. 
The third horseman pulled up. Quickly Alex followed 
with the signal to “ come ahead with caution.’’ The 
rear pony spurred forward, pulled up beside the sec- 
ond, and apparently at a call, the Indian also halted. 
On Alex repeating the last signal, all dismounted, and 
he knew he had been understood. 

Leaving their horses where they were, the three men 
came on at a quick walk. Alex, continuing to talk to 
the hens, could scarcely contain his secret delight. 

When his rescuers were within a hundred yards of 
the cabin, he once more signalled caution, and they 
continued stealthily, revolvers in hand. 

They reached the corner of the house, unheard by 
the men at the table. The superintendent raised his 
eyebrows questioningly. Alex glanced over his shoul- 
der, and nodded sharply. The next moment there was 
a rush of feet without, and all in a twinkle Bennet 
and the cowman were out of their chairs, at the door, 
and staggering back before three threatening revol- 
vers. Staring open-mouthed, they brought up beside 
the overturned table. 

Alex’s words were the first. These were the chick- 
ens I was calling, Mr. Bennet,” he remarked gleefully. 
The K. & Z. man recovered himself and turned on 


354 


TURNING THE TABLES 


the boy, white with passion. He was stopped by an 
exclamation from Finnan. “Bennet! George Ben- 
net ! What are you doing here? 

“ Perhaps this will explain, sir,’’ said Alex, hand- 
ing over the map, which he had caught up during the 
excitement. Bennet made a frantic move to intercept 
him, but promptly Little Hawk’s revolver was in 
his face, and he sank back into a chair, gritting his 
teeth. 

“ A plan showing every bridge and culvert on our 
line, and directions for blowing them all up, simulta- 
neously ! Well — ” Words failed the superintendent. 

And this is what you have come to, Bennet ? I’d 
never have believed it ! ” 

There was a second awkward silence, when Superin- 
tendent Finnan suddenly broke it with, Look here. 
I ’ve got you now, have n’t I ? I ’ve got you where I 
can put you in jail for a year or so at least. Well, 
instead of doing that, I ’ll make you a proposition : 

‘‘ Drop all this kind of work ; guarantee that there 
will be no more of it — agree to make it a straight, 
square building race between your road and mine, the 
first one to reach the Pass to win — guarantee that, 
and I ’ll let you go. 

Do you agree? ” 

Bennet rose to his feet and held out his hand. I ’ll 
give you my solemn word. Finnan. 

And — and I ’m awfully sorry I ever consented to 
go into this kind of thing,” the K. & Z. man went on, 
a quaver in his voice. “ But it was put up to me, and 
355 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


when I ’d taken the first step, I thought I ’d have to 
carry it through.” 

He turned to Alex. ‘‘ I ’m sorry for the way you 
have been treated, my lad. You are a plucky boy, and 
straight. You keep on as you have, and you ’ll never 
find yourself in the position I am. 

‘‘ I offered him two hundred dollars cash and a hun- 
dred a month to keep his mouth quiet,” the speaker 
explained to the superintendent, and he refused it.” 

How about the Antelope viaduct, Mr. Finnan?”- 
Alex asked as they rode away, he on one of Munson’s 
loaned ponies. It was n’t blown up? ” 

‘‘ No, but an attempt of some kind was made. 
Rather a mysterious affair,” the superintendent said. 

Late last night an Italian of the fill gang was seen 
stealing to one of the main foundations, then kicking 
and tearing something to pieces. Norton followed 
him, and found some fuses, and fragments of paper 
that had been wrapped about some strange kind of 
explosive, which apparently had failed to ignite. The 
Italian has not been seen since.” 

Alex was chuckling. I think I can guess why 
that ^ strange explosive ’ failed to go off, sir,” he said. 

It was clay.” And continuing, he explained the mys- 
tery in detail. Superintendent Finnan laughed heartily. 

‘‘ Well, Ward, you are certainly due a vote of 
thanks,” he declared seriously. “ You saved the via- 
duct, and now you probably have brought about the 
ending of the entire trouble with the K. & Z. people. 

I ’ll not fail to turn in a thorough report of it.” 

356 


XXII 


THE DEFENSE OF THE VIADUCT 

T hanks to the termination of the interference 
from the opposition road, the work on the exten- 
sion progressed rapidly, and two weeks later found the 
rail-head seven miles beyond the Antelope viaduct, in 
the lower slopes of the Dog Rib Mountains. The cov- 
eted pass to the Yellow Creek gold-field lay but eight 
miles distant, and as the K. & Z. was still twenty miles 
east, it appeared certain that the Middle Western 
would win the great race. 

The time had passed uneventfully with the three 
young telegraphers, the end of the second week finding 
Alex and Jack together with the construction-train at 
the rail-head, and Wilson Jennings back at the tem- 
porary station and material-sidings at the viaduct. 

Perhaps the last few days had passed least interest- 
ingly with Wilson, alone in his little box-car station, 
not far from the old river-bed. Saturday had seemed 
particularly slow, for some reason, and shortly after 
8 o’clock Wilson threw aside a book he had been read- 
ing, and catching up his hat, made for the door, for 
a brief stroll, previous to retiring. 

The moon was momentarily showing through a 
357 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

break in the cloudy sky, and looking to the west, Wil- 
son was somewhat surprised to discover the figures 
of two men approaching. When as he watched they 
reached the first of a train of tie-cars, and leaving the 
rails, continued forward in the shadows, Wilson 
stepped back, in disquiet. 

The strangers came opposite, and paused, looking 
toward the station window and speaking in subdued 
voices. Convinced that something was afoot, the 
young operator turned quickly, and stooping low, that 
his shadow might not be seen on the window, crept to 
the little instrument table and reached for the tele- 
graph key. He opened, and pressed it down. The 
sounder did not respond. He tried again, adjusting 
the relay, and turned about in genuine alarm. 

The wire had been cut! Some mischief was surely 
afoot. 

From without came the crunch of stealthy footsteps. 
Springing to his bunk, Wilson secured his revolver 
and belt — the same taken from the would-be bullion 
thief he had captured at Bonepile — and stealing to 
the rear door, slipped out and to the ground just as 
the strangers approached the opposite side of the little 
car-depot. 

The car was raised on a foundation of ties, and as 
the two men entered, Wilson crept beneath. 

No one here,’’ said a gruff voice. ‘‘ Say, do you 
s’pose he saw us, and sneaked?” 

Like as not. I told you to keep to the rails and 
come straight up,” chided the other. 

358 


THE DEFENSE OF THE VIADUCT 


“ Perhaps he will come back. We Te in charge of 
the station anyway. That was the real thing.’' 

Wilson waited to hear no more. Creeping forth, 
he stole off toward the ravine, intending to get out of 
sight in its shadows. 

A short distance from the head of the viaduct was 
the green light of a small target-switch. The head 
of the downward path lay just beyond, and Wilson 
headed for the light. He reached it, and passed on. 

Abruptly he halted and turned about. Like an in- 
spiration had come the remembrance of Alex Ward’s 
signalling feat two years before at Bixton, of which 
he had heard from Jack Orr. Could he not do the 
same? Try and signal Alex or Jack, at the construc- 
tion-train? Say, from one of the box-cars at the 
farther corner of the yard ? 

Casting a glance toward the little station to assure 
himself that all was quiet there, Wilson retraced his 
steps to the switch, removed the lantern, and tucking 
it under his coat, was off between the material-cars 
for the farthermost corner of the sidings. 

The outermost car was a box-car. Climbing the 
ladder, with his handkerchief Wilson tied the lantern 
to the topmost rung, the red light out, and using his 
hat just as Alex had done, began flashing the call of 
the construction-train, 

“KX, KX, V! KX, KX, V!” 

Since the construction-train had started from Yellow 
Creek Junction it had been a center of attraction to 
359 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


coyotes for fifty miles around, and one of the few rec- 
reations enjoyed by the men of the train had been 
hunting them at night. 

This Saturday night Alex and Jack, borrowing 
Winchesters from other members of the telegraph-car 
party, had set out for a couple of good rugs,’' as 
they put it, and on leaving the train had headed east, 
toward the aqueduct, in which direction they had 
heard barks of the midnight prowlers. 

They had gone perhaps three miles, and had fired 
on several of the wily animals, without success, when 
suddenly Jack caught Alex by the arm and pointed 
away to the east. 

‘‘Look, Al! What’s that?’’ 

“ Why, it looks like — It is ! It ’s a signal 
light ! 

“ And calling us — KX ! ” cried Alex. “ Something 
must be wrong with Wilson! ” 

“What’ll we do? Back to the train?” 

“ Have you a match and some paper? ” said Alex, 
going hurriedly through his own pockets. 

“ Some matches.” 

“ Here ’s a couple of letters. Come on back to 
the rails, find some chips, and make a fire. See 
if we can’t answer him, and learn what the trouble 
is.” 

They were already racing for the track, reached it, 
and quickly gathering together a little pile of dry bark 
and chips knocked from the ties, made a fire at the 
track-side, and lit it. 


360 


THE DEFENSE OF THE VIADUCT 


As the flames burst up Alex threw oflf his coat, and 
using it as a curtain, raised and lowered it in a flashed 
I, I, KX!’’ 

The call twinkled on. Wilson had not seen it. But 
the next moment, before Alex had completed a second 
answer, the red light disappeared. Alex again shot 
forth the gleaming “ I, I, KX ! ’’ and in blinking re- 
sponse they read : 

“ Chased out of station. Two men. Wire cut. 
Something wrong. Help ! — V.’’ 

OK. But we are three miles from the train. 
Hunting. Will we come, or go back for help? ’’ sig- 
nalled Alex. 

There was a pause, and the red light blinked, 
“ Come ! Quick ! 

“ OK. Coming.’’ Only pausing to stamp out the 
fire, the two boys were away at a run, heading directly 
for the light, which at intervals Wilson continued to 
show, as a guide. 

Their open-air experience of a month had put the 
two boys in the best of condition, and keeping on at 
a smart pace, within half an hour the light showed just 
ahead, and a few minutes after Wilson ran forward 
to greet them. 

‘‘ I don’t know what ’s in the air, but certainly 
something,” he announced. ‘‘ As you fellows are 
armed too, suppose we go back and get the two men 
in the station car, and see if we can’t make them tell ? ” 
he suggested. 

‘‘ Lead ahead,” agreed the others. 

361 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Stealthily they made their way amid the intervening 
cars, and emerged opposite the little depot. 

In the window was the shadow of a man smok- 
ing. 

They stole across to the door, and Wilson, leading, 
cautiously glanced within. He turned and held up one 
finger. Revolver in hand, he tiptoed up the steps, and 
with a cry sprang inside and toward the man in the 
chair. The intruder was so taken by surprise that he 
tumbled over backward. In a jiffy the three boys 
were upon him, and had pinned him to the floor ; and 
while Alex closely clutched his mouth, to prevent him 
calling out, the others speedily bound his hands and 
feet with some convenient pieces of wire. 

Satisfied that their prisoner was firmly secured, and 
having removed his pistol and cartridge-belt, the boys 
replaced him in the chair, and Wilson, pointing his 
revolver at the man's head, demanded, Where is 
your pard? And what are you and he up to? " 

There was a look of amusement in the man's face 
as Alex removed his hand, and he replied, Nothin’ 
doin,' boys. You 'll have to guess." 

‘‘ I 'll give you three, to tell," said Wilson, assuming 
a fierce expression and beginning to count. 

The prisoner laughed outright. You gentleman 
kids would n't shoot a fly," he declared coolly. 

Wilson colored with mortification. For of course 
he had had no intention of shooting. Even Alex and 
Jack were forced to smile at the turn of the situation. 
Wilson had his revenge, however. ‘‘ Gag him, then, 
362 


THE DEFENSE OF THE VIADUCT 


Al/’ he suggested, ‘‘ and we will stow him away be- 
neath the car/’ 

The man’s mouth opened for a shout. In a flash 
Alex had slapped a handkerchief between his teeth, 
and despite the man’s struggles stuffed it well in. 
Then, taking from his neck a long colored neckerchief, 
he bound it twice about the man’s face. 

‘‘ Now out with him, this side,” said Wilson, open- 
ing the rear door. 

‘‘ Would n’t it be better to take him over under one 
of the cars on the sidings?” Jack suggested. ‘‘His 
pard might return, and he kick, or make some kind 
of a noise underneath.” 

“ That ’s so.” Dragging their prisoner forth, they 
glanced up and down to see that no one was in sight, 
and with Jack at his feet and Alex and Wilson at his 
arms, they hastened across the rails, passed between 
two freight-cars, and in the deep shadow beyond placed 
him on the ground and bound him firmly to a rail. 

“ Be sure you don’t talk now,” said Wilson derisively 
as they turned away. 

“What next?” Jack asked. 

It ’s pretty sure to be some mischief about the 
bridge. Let ’s have a look around there,” suggested 
Alex. 

Approaching the brink of the ravine at a point some 
distance from the viaduct, the boys glanced below. 
From the three broke a simultaneous low cry of un- 
derstanding and indignation. 

In the light of several lanterns a party of seemingly 
363 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


fifteen or twenty men were piling brush about the 
base of one of the central wooden piers. 

‘‘ The K. & Z. people again, sure as you Ye born ! ” 
exclaimed Alex hotly. ‘‘ And after their solemn agree- 
ment ! ’’ 

‘‘If they succeed in burning it, they will hold back 
our supplies two or three weeks, and reach the pass 
ahead of us, dead certain,’’ added Jack through his 
teeth. “We ’ve got to stop them, boys ! ” 

“ Is n’t there a hand-car or a velocipede here, 
Wilse? ” Alex inquired. 

“ No. Not even a push-car. And it ’d take one 
of us an hour and a half to reach the construction- 
train.” 

“ But that ’s certainly the only thing to be done,” 
Jack pointed out. “ Perhaps two of us, with the rifles, 
could hold them — ” 

A flicker of light broke out below which was not 
a lantern, and approached the dimly disclosed brush- 
pile. Quick as a flash Jack’s rifle went to his shoulder, 
and there was a reverberating crash. The light dis- 
appeared and there came up a chorus of surprised 
shouts and the clatter of running feet. 

“ Now we are in for it. I think we had better stick 
it out together,” said Alex quietly. “ Perhaps the 
firing will be heard at the train.” 

The others agreed, and at Wilson’s suggestion they 
made their way a few feet down the slope to a ledge 
from which the whole structure of the bridge could 
dimly be seen. 


364 


THE DEFENSE OF THE VIADUCT 


How are you fellows off for ammunition ? ” whis- 
pered Wilson. 

I have four more rounds in the rifle, and thirty 
in my belt,’’ said Jack. 

Five in the gun and twenty-seven in the belt,” 
Alex announced. 

Wilson had been examining the revolver and belt 
they had taken from the prisoner, and which he had 
brought with him. ‘‘ Fourteen in the two pistols and 
nearly sixty in the two belts,” he said. 

We ought to be able to put up all kinds of a 
fight,” Alex declared confidently. That is, unless 
they — ” 

He broke off, and all leaned forward, peering down 
into the gloom, and listening. From a little to the 
left rose the clatter of a pebble. Wilson stretched 
himself on his face, and bent over, one of his pistols 
extended. Barely breathing, they waited, and again 
came a faint clatter as of loosened earth, nearer. 

‘‘ Don’t let him get too close,” Alex whispered. 

There came the sound of something snapping, a 
smothered exclamation, and instantly Wilson fired. 
There was a shrill cry, and the crash of something roll- 
ing downward. At the same moment from below 
came a crashing volley of shots, and bullets snarled 
upward by them like a swarm of bees. The boys 
shrank back flat, then leaned over and returned two 
quick volleys. 

Another cry indicated that one of their bullets had 
found a mark, and following a scattering return volley 
365 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


from the darkness there were sounds of a hurried 
scuttling for cover. 

‘^Anyone touched?” Jack asked. 

“ I think I lost a little hair,” said Wilson quietly. 

Me too,” said Alex. But a miss is as good as 
a mile, you know. And we have the advantage so 
far.” 

‘‘ Sh ! ” warned Jack. In the silence came the sound 
of running footsteps farther up the gully, followed by 
a continuous rattle of falling stones. 

They ’re making a rush up another path. Quick, 
and stop them ! ” exclaimed Wilson, starting to his 
feet. 

‘‘ Hold on,” Alex interrupted as they reached the 
crest of the slope. ‘‘ Perhaps it ’s a ruse to get us 
away, so they can start the fire. You two run and 
chase them down, and I ’ll stay and watch here. If 
you need help, shout.” 

Wilson and Jack sprang away along the brink of 
the ravine. A hundred yards distant the sounds of 
men ascending rose from directly beneath them. 
Without pause they fired. Cries of rage followed, and 
as the boys dropped to the ground a dozen bullets 
whined over them. Promptly Wilson replied with the 
entire seven shots from one of his pistols, there was 
a crash as of someone falling, then a general scram- 
bling as the entire party apparently tumbled precipi- 
tately down the steep slope. Rising to their feet, the 
boys fired several more shots, and hastened back 
toward Alex. 


366 


THE DEFENSE OF THE VIADUCT 


As they neared him the crash of his rifle told he had 
guessed rightly that another attempt would be made 
to light the fire. 

‘‘ Quick ! ’’ he said, slamming the loading mechan- 
ism. They Te sticking to it ! ” 

Wilson and Jack saw several twinkling flames, and 
the roar of Alex's next shot was followed by the crash 
of their own weapons. A cry of agony followed, and 
one of the lights disappeared. Another faltered, and 
also went out. 

Alex once more brought up his rifle, took careful 
aim; the jet of flame leaped from the muzzle, and with 
a shout the boys saw the last spot of light describe an 
arc in the air, and go out. 

An angry howl followed, then a continuous volley 
from several different points. The spirit of fight had 
taken full possession of the three lads on the brink of 
the ravine, however, and lying close, they gave back 
shot for shot, quickly but steadily. Finally a lull came, 
and Alex rose exultingly on an elbow and shouted 
below, Come on, you cowards ! Come — " 

From behind one of the bridge pillars leaped a flame, 
and with a sharp intake of breath Alex slipped side- 
ways. But as Wilson and Jack sprang to his side he 
again rose. ‘‘ It 's nothing," he declared. ‘‘ Just a 
graze inside the arm." 

The quiet continuing, the others insisted on remov- 
ing Alex's coat, and feeling, found the shirt-sleeve 
wet. ‘‘ Tie a handkerchief round it," Alex directed. 

There. That ^s all right. 

367 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

That ’s what I get for allowing myself to be car- 
ried away, isn’t it?” he added as Wilson and Jack 
helped him into his coat. I did n’t realize how — ” 

All three snatched up their weapons and spun about. 

A tall stooped figure was standing within a few feet 
of them. 

Surrender! ” cried Wilson. Quick, or I 'll — ” 

It me, Little Hawk,” said a quiet voice. ‘‘ Why 
shoot?” 

With a common cry of joy the boys sprang forward, 
and quickly explained the situation. The Indian 
grunted. Not K. & Z. man,” he said. Bad cow- 
boy, miner, gambler, from Yellow Creek. Makeum 
big bet K. & Z. win, come burn bridge, makeum win. 
Little Hawk hearum talk, come follow, hearum fight, 
come quick. 

‘‘ Thinkum big fight. Only three boy fight, eh ? ” 
he added in surprise. 

Alex had been considering. Look here, Little 
Hawk,” he suggested, you ride back to the construc- 
tion-train and give the alarm, will you? I think we 
have these fellows scared now, and can hold them till 
help comes. And none of us could ride that pony of 
yours.” 

I findum pother boss — cowboy boss,” said the 
Indian, pointing the way he had come. You go, 
takeum. Little Hawk stay fight.” 

Alex thought a minute. ‘‘No; I’d rather stick, 
and see the thing through, now,” he declared. 

“ Me too,” said Jack promptly. 

368 


THE DEFENSE OF THE VIADUCT 


‘‘ Same here/’ Wilson agreed. 

It ’s up to you, then, Little Hawk. 

‘‘Say, hold on!” Alex interrupted as the Indian 
turned away. “ Boys, how about Little Hawk taking 
our prisoner back with him on the other horse ? The 
folks at the train might get some information out of 
him. 

“ Could you take him. Little Hawk? ” he asked. 

The redskin grunted assent. “ Tieum to saddle,” 
he said. 

“ I ’ll go and show him where the rascal is,” volun- 
teered Wilson. 

A few minutes later, with the boys’ prisoner trailing 
behind, securely bound to the saddle of the wandering 
horse he had picked up, the Indian was off across 
the plain to the west at the top of his mottled pony’s 
speed. 

When Wilson returned to Alex and Jack he found 
them busy constructing a miniature block-house of ties 
they had thrown from a neighboring car. “ That ’s 
the idea,” he said, joining them. “We could hold 
out in that all night, easily.” 

“No; leave that opening, Wilse,” Jack interposed 
as Wilson began closing a gap at one of the corners. 
“ That ’s to command the bridge. We ’re going to 
fire through, not over.” 

The boys had just completed their little fort when 
from the top of the gully immediately opposite came 
a spit of flame, followed by the plaintive hum of a 
pistol bullet above them. Promptly they dropped be- 
369 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

low the ties, and Alex, who had that side, aimed 
toward the spot at which he had seen the flash, and 
as it spat out again, crashed back with his Winchester. 
From several points along the opposite level a ragged 
fire followed, and continued intermittently. 

Then finally, as the boys had half expected, there 
came a smattering volley from amid the cars on the 
sidings behind them. The body of their assailants had 
reached the surface on their side. 

Now it was that the three began to experience their 
first real anxiety. For despite their show of confidence 
to one another, each secretly knew that if a determined 
rush was made from near at hand, there was scarcely 
an even chance of their standing it off. 

As a provision against this eventuality Wilson did 
very little firing during the almost steady exchange of 
shots that followed, keeping the chambers of his two 
revolvers always full. To the same end, Alex and 
Jack used their magazine-rifles as single-shots, holding 
the magazines, fully charged, in reserve, 

I think I ’m getting one of them now and then,’’ 
Alex was saying about half an hour after the disap- 
pearance of the Indian. Or else — ” He broke off 
to fire again. Unless their ammunition is giving out 
over there.” 

Suddenly Jack snapped open his magazine. “ Here 
they come ! ” he whispered. Alex scrambled about 
beside him. Wilson thrust the pistol-barrels through 
the loop-hole. 

From the dark line of the cars rose a shouted com- 

370 



WITH THE BOYS" PRISONER SECURELY BOUND TO THE SADDLE OF THE WAN 
DERING HORSE, THE INDIAN WAS OFF ACROSS THE PLAIN. 






THE DEFENSE OF THE VIADUCT 


mand, there came a ripping volley of a dozen Colts, 
and a dim group of figures rushed toward them. 

‘‘Now, steady!’’ warned Alex. “And shoot low! 

“ Fire! ” 

Crash!” went the Winchesters, Crack, crack, 
crack!” the pistols. 

Two of the leading runners went to their hands and 
knees. The others rushed on, shouting and spitting 
flames. 

Keeping well under cover, the boys fired as quickly 
as they could work their weapons. Wilson felt a 
stinging snip at his right ear, and a warm stream trick- 
ling down his neck. He emptied the first pistol, and 
began with the second. 

“ Crash! Crash! ” roared the Winchesters. 

The attackers held on. They had made half the dis- 
tance. In spite of themselves, the boys began firing 
nervously. 

Closer the running figures came. 

Jack snapped back his reloading mechanism, and 
pulled the trigger. There was no report. 

His cry of consternation was echoed by Alex. 

They had fired their last shots! 

With a wild shout of triumph two of their assailants 
were upon them. 

From a clear patch of sky bright moonlight flooded 
the construction-train and the gray slope of the hill 
to the southeast about which the rails had crept that 
day. Grouped on the rear steps of the store-car, 
373 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


Superintendent Finnan and several of his foremen 
sat and smoked, and listened. 

‘‘ Yes ; it 's a horse,” said one of the foremen. 

Two horses,” declared the superintendent. “ And 
coming as though Old Nick were after them.” 

Over the moonlit rise swept a figure on horseback, 
then another. 

On discovering the group at the car, the leader ut- 
tered a shrill whoop, and tore down the slope toward 
them. 

“ The first is Little Hawk ! The other is a prisoner ! 
What’s wrong?” cried the superintendent, springing 
to the ground. 

The Indian pulled up in a cloud of dust before him, 
and threw himself from his reeking pony. 

“ Want burnum bridge,” he said, indicating his 
prisoner. “ Five, ten, more ! Much more ! Three 
boy — tick-knock boy — fightem ! 

“Hear? Hear?” 

He placed his hand to his ear. 

The incredulous group turned to the east and lis- 
tened. 

As from infinitely far away, half heard, half felt, 
came a low, deadened “ Plugk ! . . . Plugk, plugk ! 
. . . Plugk!” 

A moment the startled railroadmen stared at one 
another. Then quickly the superintendent spoke. 

“Ryan, rout out the engineer and firemen! The 
rest of you run for your guns, and a dozen good men 
from your gangs ! Don’t lose a minute! ” 

374 



THE INDIAN PULLED UP IN A CLOUD OF DUST* 




I 





V 


THE DEFENSE OF THE VIADUCT 


The group scattered with a rush. Fifteen minutes 
later, with men filling her cab and clustered on the 
tender, the engine was under way, rushing east- 
ward. 

As rapidly the speed was increased, the locomotive 
rocked and leaped over the new roadbed, but with the 
superintendent at his elbow, the engineer drove her 
up to the last notch, and the prairie streamed by them 
like a blanket. 

Half the distance was made, and above the noise 
of the engine came a sharp “Tap, tap! Tap, tap, 
tap!’’ 

On the engine rushed, and the distant shapes of 
cars appeared. Simultaneously there came a crashing 
volley of shots, and a chorus of shouting. The men 
on the engine gripped their guns, and stared ahead 
into the space lit up by the headlight. 

With reducing speed they struck a curve, and the 
stream of light swung about toward the bridge. The 
next moment into the glare broke a group of madly 
struggling figures. 

On the flash of the light the fighting ceased. There 
were cries of alarm, and the renegades began to break 
and flee. A small party stood, and fired toward the 
engine. But with a roar the railroadmen leaped and 
tumbled to the ground, and rushed at them, and they 
too broke and fled. 

And the great fight was over, and won. 

The superintendent was first to reach the little bar- 
ricade. Jack, he found unconscious from a blow on 
377 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 


the head. Wilson had fainted, and Alex drooped 
limply on the wall of ties, exhausted past speaking. 
The faces, hands and clothes of all bore mute witness 
to the desperate struggle they had put up during those 
last terrible minutes. 

Within a short time, however, all three boys had 
somewhat recovered, and were able to take their places 
in the engine cab; and a half hour later the party 
headed back for the construction-train, coupled behind 
them a box-car containing eighteen prisoners. Ten 
of the captured men were found to have been wounded, 
several seriously; but to the relief of the boys none 
had been killed outright. 

When rescued, rescuers and prisoners arrived at the 
construction-train they found an excited crowd of 
over three hundred men awaiting them. And on the 
details of the affair quickly spreading, the three boys 
were literally swept from their feet by the enthusiastic 
foreigners, hoisted into the air, and carried to the 
telegraph-car to a continuous roar of ‘‘ hurrahs ” and 
bravos.” 

The following Wednesday a special train, to which 
was attached Division Superintendent Cameron’s pri- 
vate car, drew up at the rear of the boarding-train. 
Proceeding thither in response to a message, Alex and 
Jack found Wilson, who had been picked up at the 
viaduct station. Construction Superintendent Finnan 
and several other Middle Western officials. 

Having greeted them warmly, the division superin- 

378 


THE DEFENSE OF THE VIADUCT 


tendent took a smdl package from his desk, and 
opened it. “ I know you don't like speeches, boys," 
he began ; ‘‘ and in any case, I 'm not sure I could do 
justice to the occasion. But, here! These three 
gold watches — the very finest the company’s money 
could buy, I may say — will show you what we think 
of the loyalty to the company, and the splendid cour- 
age you three lads displayed last Saturday night in 
defense of the Antelope viaduct. 

I might just read one of the inscriptions," he said, 
opening Alex’s watch. 

“ ‘ To Alex Ward, from the Middle Western Rail- 
road, in recognition of the heroic part he played in the 
defense of the Antelope viaduct, November 2 nd, i8 — , 
and in thus ensuring the victory of the Middle West- 
ern in its memorable race with the K. & Z. for the 
Yellow Creek Pass.’ 

For that is precisely what it meant," declared the 
superintendent. The pass is ours now, beyond any 
chance. 

And finally," he concluded, as Alex, Jack and 
Wilson, scarcely knowing what to say, took the three 
beautiful watches, I would just like to remark that 
if you three boys do not some day stand where I stand, 
or higher, I ’ll be both greatly surprised and disap- 
pointed." 

That this prediction was justified, you can to-day 
learn from any directory of railroad officials — for 
there, in the pages devoted to the Middle Western, 
379 


/ 


THE YOUNG RAILROADERS 

you will find the name of Alexander Ward, Superin- 
tendent, Western Division; John Orr, Superintendent, 
Central Division; and, as General Superintendent of 
Telegraphs, Wilson A. Jennings. 


THE END. 


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